PAINTED 

::  ROGK  :: 

MORLEY  ROBERTS 


^r\np> 


PAINTED     ROCK 


PAINTED    ROCK 

TALES  AND  NARRATIVES  OF  PAINTED 
ROCK,  SOUTH  PANHANDLE,  TEXAS,  TOLD 
BY  CHARLIE  BAKER,  LATE  OF  THAT  CITY 
AND  ALSO  OF  SNYDER,  SCURRY  COUNTY 


BY 


MORLEY     ROBERTS 

AUTHOR   OF    "RACHEL   MARK  "    ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY 

1907 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I 


I.  The  Killing  of  "Sweetwater"  . 
II.  The  Difficulty  with  Windy  Walker      31 


III.  The  Rise  of  Ginger  Gillett 

IV.  The  Man  Underneath 
V.  Partners  Once 

VI.  The  Man  who  took  Water  . 
VII.  A  Scurry  County  Wooing    . 
VIII.  An  Exile  from  "God's  Country 
IX.  The  Tale  of  Brazos  Dick     . 
X.  A  Romance  of  Double  Mountain 


55 

81 

109 

125 

151 

195 
237 


989.^  I  I 


PAINTED      ROCK 


«    •  ■  •     >       e  » 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER" 

I  HAD  come  into  Painted  Rock  from  Ennis 
Creek  in  a  Studebaker  wagon,  pulled  by 
Jones'  two  mules,  Punch  and  Judy,  and,  while 
the  men  at  the  store  were  making  up  my 
orders  for  the  extra  grub  that  would  see  us 
through  shearing,  I  took  a  paseo  all  round  the 
town.  It  had  never  seemed  more  peaceful 
to  me,  and  I  daresay  that  any  tender-foot 
from  the  East  would  have  thought  it  lacked 
all  those  elements  of  romance  that  he  had 
expected  to  find.  Pillsbury  and  Gedge,  my 
two  gambling  friends,  said  that  things  were 
indeed  dull. 

"  There  don't  seem  to  be  a  dollar  in  the  hull 
A  I 


PAINTED  ROCK 

City,"  said  Pillsbury,  with  a  yawn,  "  at  least, 
I've  not  sot  eyes  on  one  for  days.  And  as 
for  excitement,  there  ain't  any.  It's  so 
demed  dull  and  quiet  and  peaceful  that  my 
nerve  is  gi\dn'  out,  and  I  expect  something 
horrid  to  happen  ;  eh,  Gedge  ?  " 

I'^lt  is  Vmi,ghty  remarkable  fact,"  replied 
the -long-haired  .Georgian,  "  that  such  a  period 
'of  peace  in  Painted  Rock  is  mostly  broke 
up  by  someone  havin'  a  sudden  funeral.  I 
reckon  that  sohd  peace  gets  on  our  nerves, 
and  the  want  of  gayness  and  money  is  tryin* 
to  us,  and  those  that  have  a  stake  in  the 
City  feel  it.  Oh,  I'd  not  be  surprised  if  the 
calm  was  broke  up  any  moment." 

I  took  so  much  pity  on  their  sad  estate  as  to 
inquire  if  they  would  have  a  liquor  with  me. 

"  I  should  smile,"  said  Pillsbury,  and  we 
went  into  the  American  House  and  had  some- 
thing destructive  and  highly  poisonous  at 
twenty-five  cents  a  drink.  While  we  stood 
up  to  the  bar  and  discussed  the  trying  peace, 
a  stranger  looked  into  the  saloon  as  if  he  were 
seeking  someone  there,  and  I  saw  Gedge's  eyes 
snap. 

2 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

"  Who  was  that  ?  "  I  asked,  and  Gedge 
stared  at  me  with  an  odd,  far-away  look. 

"  I  was  just  tryin'  to  recall  him,"  said 
Gedge.  "  I  don't  never  forget  a  face,  and 
yet  somehow  I  can't  place  him." 

"  Why  should  you  ?  "  asked  the  bar-tender. 
"  He's  a  stranger,  sure  pop.  I  saw  him  get 
off  the  cars  yesterday,  and  I've  been  in  Painted 
Rock  nigh  on  to  three  years,  and  I  lay  ten 
dollars  he  hasn't  been  here  durin'  that  time." 

"  Well,  I've  seen  him  somewhere,  I'U  take 
an  oath  to  that  on  a  stack  of  Bibles,"  said 
Gedge.  "  I've  been  around  this  locality  mor'n 
three  years,  my  son,  and  mebbe  I  saw  him 
twenty  years  ago  in  Georgia.  I  never  forget 
a  face  or  an  injury  or  a  good  turn  done  me, 
and  somehow  I  hev  a  soHd  based  opinion 
that  I've  done  more  than  passed  the  time  of 
day  with  that  melancholy  individual  that 
poked  his  head  in  here  just  now,  and  took  a 
look  around  these  deserted  halls." 

We  had  some  more  poison  at  Pillsbury's 
expense,  and  then  Gedge  smote  the  bar  with 
his  open  hand.     We  looked  at  him  in  silence. 

"I've  located  that  stranger  in  my  unfor- 
3 


PAINTED  ROCK 

getful  mind/'  said  the  Georgian  ;  "  I  knew  I 
should,  and  I've  got  him  to  rights.  It's  a 
mighty  strange  thing  that  he  should  turn  up 
after  all  these  years,  and  I  wonder  what  he's 
thinking  of  as  he  w^anders  around." 

He  turned  to  us  with  an  odd  look  in  his  face, 
and  we  knew  there  was  a  story  coming.  The 
bar-keeper  filled  up  our  glasses  again  at  my 
nod,  and  I  slid  a  dollar  over  to  him  while 
Gedge  was  getting  the  hang  of  his  reminiscences. 
He  sighed,  took  his  liquor,  and  spoke. 

*'  His  name  is  Smith,  just  Smith  and  what 
else  I  forget,"  said  Gedge,  "  and  he  gave  me 
the  greatest  surprise  I  ever  had,  and  that,  in 
my  varied  and  not  unremarkable  career,  is  a 
tall  order." 

"  What  was  the  surprise  ?  "  asked  Pillsbury. 
"  Did  he  take  you  on  at  poker  and  skin  you  ?  " 

Gedge  shook  his  head  solemnly. 

*'  I've  yet  to  meet  the  man  that  can  do 
that,  and  w^ell  you  sabe  it,  Pillsbury.  It 
wasn't  gambling  by  any  means,  but  it  was  a 
surprise,  and  no  fatal  error.  There's  two 
kind  of  great  surprises  accordin'  to  my  mind, 
and  one  of  them  is  when  a  man  without  any 
4 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

sand  in  his  composition,  as  far  as  one  can 
judge,  suddenly  develops  sand  and  lays  out 
someone  that  is  a  terror.  And  the  other  kind 
of  great  and  remarkable  surprise  is  when  a 
man,  a  brave  man  and  a  man  that  the  hull 
camp  respects,  shows  up  as  a  coward  and 
hasn't  the  guts  of  a  chipmunk.  That  was  the 
sad  case  with  the  very  Smith  that  put  his 
weary-lookin'  countenance  inside  this  bar  and 
took  a  casual  look  at  us.  I'm  sorry  to  say 
that  he's  an  Englishman." 

I  begged  him  not  to  trouble  about  his  being 
a  countryman  of  mine,  and  asked  for  the  story. 

"  It  was  remarkable,  mighty  remarkable," 
said  Gedge  thoughtfully,  "  but  I'm  havin' 
another  struggle  with  my  memory,  which,  as 
I  said  before,  is  a  good  one,  but,  as  you  may 
hev  observed  before,  a  trifle  heavy  on  the 
puU-off.  For  some  reason  that  I  don't  sabe, 
I  cayn't  recall  the  name  of  the  person  selected 
by  Providence  to  show  us  that  Smith  had 
imposed  on  the  world  by  an  outward  show  of 
grit.  I  wish  I  could  locate  him,  and  then  I 
could  pitch  you  the  tale  as  easy  as  fall  off  a 
log." 

5 


PAINTED  ROCK 

He  took  another  drink  to  grease  his  memory, 
which  was  one  with  a  heavy  pull-off,  and 
stood  thinking.  He  lifted  his  head  at  last, 
and  then  shook  it. 

"  I'm  a  perfect  sucker,  I  am,"  said  Gedge; 
"  of  course  it  was  Hale." 

"  What  Hale  ?  "  asked  Piilsbury,  who  began 
to  show  more  interest  in  the  story.  "  Not 
Bill  Hale  of  Sweetwater  ?  " 

''  That  very  same  Hale,"  said  Gedge;  "  and 
when  I  say  that  same  Bill  Hale,  I  mean  a 
man  that  I  hev  no  respect  for,  and  a  man  that 
no  one  thinks  of  lovin'  to  the  extent  of  doin' 
as  much  as  go  to  his  funeral  when  he  final 
kicks." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Piilsbury  ;  ''  I  never  had  no 
use  for  Hale." 

"  Nevertheless,  though  we  hev  no  respectful 
opinion  of  Hale,  it  was  him  that  made  that 
same  Smith  take  water  and  sit  down  and  cry." 

"  Did  he  weep,  actually  weep  ?  "  asked  his 
brother  gambler. 

"  Real  tears  and  sobs,  most  horrid  and 
painful  to  see  and  hear,  my  son,"  replied  the 
older  sport.  "  The  whole  thing  made  me  feel 
6 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

sick,  and  I  was  some  sorry  that  I  could  not  see 
my  way  to  interfere  and  blow  the  roof  off  of 
Hale's  head.     I'll  tell  you  how  it  was." 

But  before  he  began  he  desired  the  bar- 
tender to  do  his  duty  in  the  matter  of  poison. 
He  swallowed  his  dose  of  nose-paint  and  took 
a  breath. 

"  It  warn't  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Rock,  but  over  to  San  Antone,"  said  Gedge, 
"  for  at  that  time  the  Rock  was  no  more  than 
a  rock,  and  those  damn  fools,  of  which  we 
are  an  important  part,  who  reckoned  that  this 
City  was  goin'  to  be  somethin',  had  not  yet 
developed  any  such  fatal  deelusion.  To  be 
strickly  ackerate,  which  is  my  aim,  I  jedge 
that  Painted  Rock  had  been  heard  of  by  six 
cowboys,  five  wanderin'  lunatics,  four  ordinary 
fools,  three  surveyors,  two  brayin'  burros, 
and  one  wise  man  who  saw  it  and  died. 
That  is  to  say,  it  warn't  known  to  any  extent 
beyond  the  Indians  and  greasers,  and  the 
Texas  Pacific  Railroad  was  reposin'  as  an 
unborn  idea  in  the  brain  of  the  scoundrel  that 
was  at  last  ass  enough  to  give  birth  to  the 
unfounded  notion  that  all  parts  of  this  holy 
7 


PAINTED  ROCK 

terror  of  a  State  was  equal  worth  the  blood 
and  bones  of  a  white  man.     However,  that's 
only  my  sore  talk,   because   I've  grown   up 
here,  and  the  Panhandle  of  Texas  isn't  what 
it  was  cracked  up  to  be.     This  yer  Smith  was 
a  pioneer  in  his  way,  and  hed  a  hell  of  a  reputa- 
tion for  bein'  sandy  with  the  Apaches  or  any 
other    breed    of    Indjuns,    and    there's    men 
about  to  this  day  that  will  tell  you  that  same 
and  stand  to  it.     He  had  a  store  in  San  Antone 
and  one  over  to  Dallas  likewise,  and  was  a 
man  with  the  repute  of  havin'  made  money. 
At  times  the  quiet  of  San  Antone  got  on  his 
nerves,  although  it  wasn't  hell-fired  quiet  by 
any  means,  and  killin's  was  frequent,  and  he 
would  get  up  and  mosey  off  somewhere  in  this 
direction,   and  maybe   as  far  as  the   Staked 
Plain,  where  buffalo  was  plenty  then,  as  you 
may  judge.     Then  he  would  come  back  and 
sell  stuff,  and,  as  I  said,  make  money.     But 
about  a  year  before  his  humihation  by  the 
said  Hale,  he  told  me  that  a  notion  was  growin' 
in  him  fast  to  go  back  to  the  old  country  for 
a  spell.    For  it  appears  that  Englishmen  are 
the  same  as  us  in  that  way,  and  they  pine  for 
8 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

the  land  where  they  were  bom  jest  as  if  it  was 
as  fine  a  land  as  Georgia,  and  not  a  down- 
trodden place  with  kings  and  queens  in  it.  If 
any  Enghshman  in  the  present  company  ain't 
pleased  with  my  deescription  of  Britain,  I 
hereby  apologise  and  state  that  I'm  not 
wholly  serious.  Well,  Smith  took  this  sad 
idea  into  his  cabeza,  and,  after  rakin'  up  an 
honest  man  (he  came  from  Georgia,  and  I 
won't  give  his  name  away),  he  ht  out  for  the 
old  country  and  was  gone  nigh  on  to  nine 
months.  Durin'  that  period  thishyer  honest 
Georgian  had  a  time  collectin'  debts  at  the 
end  of  a  gun,  but  I'll  say  this  for  the  galoot, 
that  the  debts  that  wasn't  collected  on  time 
was  few.  And  when  Smith  come  back  he  was 
that  pleased  with  me  that  he  endowed  me 
there  and  then  with  two  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  over  and  above  what  the  contract 
called  for.  Oh,  he  was  an  honest  man  and 
one  that  I  liked,  and  he  was  tol'rable  popular  ; 
oh,  he  was  tol'rable  popular.  And  I  soon 
perceived  that  a  change  had  come  over  him 
through  this  trip  of  his  to  the  old  country, 
and  he  let  out  what  it  was  the  very  night  he 
9 


PAINTED  ROCK 

went  over  the  accounts  of  the  business  with 
me.  I  noted  that  he  was  considerable  gentler 
and  softer  in  his  ways,  and  there  was  a  dreamy 
look  about  him,  like  as  if  some  lady  had  taken 
hold  of  his  little  heart  and  given  it  a  tender 
squeeze,  and  he  soon  let  on  that  he  had  run 
plump  agin  the  greatest  daisy  of  a  girl  that 
he  had  ever  seen  while  he  was  over  in  your 
monarch-ridden  country,  and  he  said  that  her 
and  him  had  fixed  up  to  jine  teams  and  pull 
across  the  flowery  prairie  of  life  while  they 
two  did  live.  For  an  Englishman  and  a  store- 
keeper he  was  some  poetical  about  this  incident, 
which  had  happened  to  him  for  the  first  time, 
so  that  all  his  eemotions  were  young  and 
virgin,  and  some  surprised  me.  He  reckoned 
to  sell  out  in  six  months,  and  go  home  per- 
manent and  put  his  pile  into  a  business  that 
the  girl's  brother  was  boss  of,  and  that  was 
how  him  and  Hale  came  into  the  arena  and 
locked  horns  and  made  the  dust  fly.  Hale 
was  always  a  bad  man  to  deal  with,  and  not 
what  I  should  call  honest,  onless  I  went  out 
of  my  way  to  tell  a  lie.  But  Smith  was 
straight  about  money  ;  as  straight  as  a  straight 

10 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

game.  And  I've  noticed,  by  the  way,  that 
some  of  the  galoots  in  business  that  are  down 
on  the  gamblers  are  ready  to  run  in  a  cold 
deck  on  a  confidin'  stranger  with  the  best  and 
worst  of  the  gamblin'  fraternity,  of  which  me 
and  Pillsbur}^  are  honourable  members.  And 
to  go  on,  I  don't  sabe  exactly  the  point  that 
Smith  and  Hale  fell  out  about,  but  fall  out 
they  did,  and  there  was  the  possibihty  of  a 
difficulty  right  there.  Thishyer  Hale  has  a 
gift,  I  don't  deny  it,  and  if  it's  a  rare  gift  it  is 
a  mighty  useful  one.  He  could  always  smell 
out  by  instinct  the  man  that  was  going  to 
fight,  and  he  smelt  out  that  Smith  wam't  for 
some  reason.  Oh,  it  was  a  wonder  to  us  boys, 
and  we  marvelled  about  it,  for  we  hed  ree- 
spected  Smith  considerable,  and  I  was  among 
them  that  did,  and  it  sickened  me  to  see  the 
way  that  Hale  walked  over  Smith.  Being 
then  like  a  young  burro,  and  as  full  of  conceit 
as  a  greaser  with  new  bell  spurs  on,  I  never 
tumbled  to  the  reason,  and  I  grew  cold  to 
Smith  and  looked  south  when  he  was  comin' 
west.  And  then  one  night  the  boys  came  and 
told  me  that  Hale  had  slapped  the  face  of 
II 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Smith,    and    that    Smith    was    sayin'    nothin' 
about  it.     Well,  you  can  believe  me,   I  was 
clean    clear    flummoxed,    and    still    I    didn't 
tumble.     You  see,   I  wasn't  married  as  yet, 
and  Mrs.  Gedge  was  at  that  time  no  more  than 
one  of  the  gals  for  whom  I  had  a  tender  feelin' 
and  as  much  respect  as  they  forced  me  to  hev. 
Though  I  hed  bin  some  cold  with  Smith,  seein' 
the  way  he  put  up  with  Hale's  want  of  manners 
before  this,  I  went  down  to  Smith's  store  and 
walked  in  to  see  what  I  could  see.     And  what 
I  saw  was  poor  Smith,  cryin   hke  a  lost  kid, 
with  his  head  on  a  parcel  of  store  pants.     He 
sobbed  fit  to  tear  the  works  out  of  himself, 
and  it  made  me   that  bashful  and  ashamed 
that  I  retired  to  the  rear  and  saw  him  no  more 
until  this  very  day  that  he  put  his  head  into 
this  saloon  and  never  knew  me.     And  that 
night  (I'm  tellin'  you  the  truth,  though  you 
may  stare  and  shake  your  cabezas  till  they 
fall  off)  he  signed  over  all  his  business  to  this 
same  Hale,  and  took  the  cash  and  departed 
for  the  down-trodden  realm  of  England.     He 
said  good-bye  to  none,  for  the  boys  were  some 
cold,  naturally,  ez  they  hed  reckoned  on  him 
12 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

layin'  Hale  out,  and  were  surprised  to  a  painful 
degree  that  he  hadn't.  For  Smith  hed  always 
bin  a  self-respectin'  citizen,  and  they  had 
hoped  to  attend  Hale's  funeral  in  their 
thousands  to  signify  that  they  were  not  sorry. 
Hale  wasn't  popular.  He  wasn't  *  a  bad 
man,*  but  he  was  inclined  to  be  bad  with 
those  that  he  could  pick  out,  and  a  bad  man 
in  a  quiet  crowd  is  the  most  contemptible 
creation  of  heaven,  accordin'  to  my  gospel. 
And  there  you  are.  That's  all  the  yam  and 
all  there  is  to  it.  Only  I'm  some  perplexed 
to  know  what  has  fetched  him  here  and  what 
he  wants.  I  wish  some  that  I  spotted  him 
when  he  put  his  head  in  here,  and  asked  him 
to  explain  this  sad  mystery." 

Then  Gedge  stopped  and  cooled  his  throat 
with  something  less  harmful  than  Western 
brandy,  and  we  also  drank  and  were  silent  till 
Pillsbury  said  something. 

"  But,  Keno,  you  threw  out  a  dark  hint 
that  if  you  hadn't  been  a  young  fool,  you 
might  hev  come  to  a  sound  conclusion  as  to 
what  made  this  Smith  so  poor  a  thing  when 
it  came  to  gim-play  with  a  man  like  Hale." 
13 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  I  did  throw  out  a  hint  on  that  point,  I 
own,"  said  Gedge,  "  and  you  are  not  as  young 
as  I  was  then,  and  ought  to  hev  the  sabe  to 
spot  the  ace  right  off.     It  was  the  girl." 

"  The  Enghsh  girl  he  was  to  get  wedded 
to  ?  "  asked  Pillsbury. 

"  What  other,  my  son  ?  "  asked  the  Georgian. 
"  She  made  a  coward  of  him." 

"  Do  you  reckon  she  said  he  warn't  to  kill 
no  more  people,  or  else  she  wouldn't  come  into 
the  firm  ?  " 

"  Nothin'  of  the  sort,"  said  Keno.  "  My 
notion  is  a  simple  one,  and  it  is  as  clear  to  me 
as  daylight.  Smith  was  plump  crazy  about 
thishyer  girl,  and  wouldn't  run  no  risks  of  not 
marryin'  her." 

"  I  see,  to  bee  sure,"  said  Pillsbury,  who 
was  a  bachelor  and  notoriously  indifferent  to 
the  charms  of  women.  "  I  see.  It's  as  clear 
as  mud.  I'd  like  to  see  the  female  beauty 
that  would  hold  back  my  gun  if  someone  smote 
me  over  the  cabeza.  I'd  rather  be  an  honoured 
if  shot-up  corpse  than  be  kissed  and  canoodled 
by  the  entire  female  sect  with  any  pretensions 
to  beauty." 

14 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

"  Well,  I  reckon  Smith  thought  otherwise," 
said  Gedge;  "and  as  he  didn't  acquaint  us 
with  his  reasons,  and  as  I  know  he  was  a  man 
beefore  this  unfort'nit  incident,  I  hev  a  kind 
of  notion  that  if  we  knew  all  we  might  say 
he  did  almost  right,  hard  as  it  is  to  imagine  it." 

But  Pillsbury  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  talk  so,"  said 
Pillsbury.  Gedge  did  not  answer,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  he  and  I  went  away  together, 
leaving  the  other  gambler  to  think  over  the 
story.  When  we  had  gone  a  hundred  yards, 
Gedge  stopped  and  laid  hold  of  my  arm.  He 
stared  at  me  with  his  bright  black  eyes,  and  a 
queer  smile  stole  over  his  face. 

"  Say,"  said  he,  "  ain't  Pillsbury  a  man 
that  is  blind  to  things  outside  of  kyards  ?  He 
has  a  mighty  respect  for  me,  and  I'll  not  say 
it  isn't  justified,  but  I'll  own  to  you  that, 
years  ago,  a  drunk  cowboy  over  at  El  Paso 
kicked  me,  and  then  pulled  a  gun  and  ordered 
me  out  of  the  place,  and  I  went  as  meek  as  a 
lamb.     D'ye  know  why  I  done  so  ?  " 

He  looked  as  fierce  as  a  trapped  grizzly  as 
he  thought  of  this  little  incident. 
15 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Keno.  "  Mrs.  Gedge 
was  lying  sick  with  the  worst  sort  of  inflam- 
matory rheumatism,  and  the  doctor  was  there 
three  times  a  day,  shakin'  his  head  over  her 
as  if  she'd  die.  Was  I  to  get  into  a  difficulty 
in  them  circumstances  ?  I  ask  anyone.  I 
took  my  kickin'  like  a  man,  and,  when  the 
old  lady  was  through  the  narrow  part  of 
Death  Canon,  I  told  her  about  it,  and  she 
said  that  I  was  a  man,  and  so  I  was.  And  I 
went  out  and  found  Mr.  Johnny  Cowboy  on 
the  plaza,  and  I  pulled  my  gun  and  threw  it 
down  on  the  ground  before  him,  and  as  he 
started  to  pull  his  I  jumped  him  and  took  it 
away,  and  I  sat  a-straddle  on  his  back  and 
made  him  ride  me  round  the  business  block 
of  the  town.  There  was  a  crowd  to  see  the 
show,  you  bet,  and  on  each  street  I  stopped 
and  explained  to  the  crowd  that  why  I  hadn't 
killed  him  before  was  all  on  account  of  Mrs. 
Gedge;  and,  when  we  done  the  block,  I  took 
my  fiery,  untamed  steed  into  the  nearest 
saloon  and  stood  him  a  skinful,  because  he 
was  the  only  man  who  ever  had  the  sand  to 
do  as  he  done.  I'm  of  opinion  that  Smith  had 
i6 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

something  of  the  same  sort  of  feehn'  that  I 
hed  when  he  let  Hale  smite  him.  And  I  dew 
wonder  some  why  he's  out  here  agin  and 
lookin',  as  you  maybe  noticed,  some  sad  and 
miserbul." 

"  Perhaps  his  wife's  dead,"  I  suggested,  and 
Gedge  stopped  suddenly.  He  looked  at  me 
with  visible  admiration,  and  I  was  much 
pleased. 

"  For  an  Englishman  you  hev  uncommon 
bright  ideas/'  he  said.  "  I  believe  you  hev 
scored  a  plumb  centre,  and  if  you  hev  I'd 
not  give  one  single  solitary  continental  cuss 
for  Hale's  chances  of  survivin'  the  summer." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  wouldn't,  that's  a  fact,"  he  repeated. 
"  I  wonder  if  Hale  is  in  town  now.  He  mostly 
comes  over  once  a  week,  as  he  has  an  interest 
in  Beal's  store.     I'll  find  out." 

We  parted  at  the  comer,  and  I  saw  him 
walk  into  Real's.  I  had  my  own  business  to 
attend  to,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  him  till  some 
hours  later,  when  I  was  at  Hamilton's,  where 
I  went  for  dinner. 

Old  bald-headed  Hamilton  introduced  the 
B  17 


PAINTED  ROCK 

subject  of  Smith  the  moment  he  saw  me.  He 
was  obviously  not  a  little  excited,  for  he  was 
one  of  the  few  who  knew  the  rights  of  the 
story,  and  he  hated  Hale  with  all  the  fervour 
of  a  debtor  who  had  no  chance  of  clearing 
himself.  He  was  deep  in  Hale's  clutches,  and 
Hale  was  a  man  of  small  consideration  for  the 
weak. 

"  I  don't  reckon  to  understand  it,  my  son,'' 
said  the  old  boarding-house  keeper,  "  but  I'm 
of  opinion  that  Smith  ain't  come  back  to 
Texas  for  nothin'  but  the  purpose  of  gettin' 
level  with  Hale." 

''  After  all  these  years  ?  "  I  asked. 

''  Why  not  ?  "  replied  Hamilton.  "  I've 
known  a  killin'  to  be  postponed  twenty  years 
and  come  off  after  all.  Oh,  I'd  rather  be 
myself  than  Hale !  For  Smith's  wife  is  dead, 
he  tells  me,  and  a  daughter  too,  and  there  is  a 
look  about  him  that  bodes  no  good  to  Hale. 
That's  my  notion,  and  I'll  back  it.  Here  he 
comes." 

Smith  came  out  on  the  verandah,  and  took 
a  long  chair  and  sat  smoking. 

"  Hale's  comin'  to  Painted  Rock  this  night," 
i8 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

said  Hamilton  in  a  whisper.  "  He's  been 
over  to  Big  Springs,  and  will  lay  over  here  for 
a  day.  D'ye  think  a  man  should  send  him 
word  that  Smith  is  here  ?  " 

Wliatever  I  thought  would  make  no  differ- 
ence, and  I  declined  to  state  what  I  thought 
or  what  my  advice  was.  It  is  best  to  stand 
clear  of  things  like  this  in  all  countries,  and 
especially  in  the  West.  Smith  sat  on  the 
verandah  and  smoked  savagely,  and  as  he 
smoked  he  chewed  the  butt  of  his  cigar  and 
thought.  He  did  not  speak,  and  never  even 
looked  at  me,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  till  Gedge 
came  over  to  Hamilton's  in  the  evening. 
When  Smith  heard  Keno's  voice  he  looked  at 
us  with  a  start,  and  evidently  recognised  the 
gambler.  Yet  he  made  no  sign  that  he  knew 
him  till  Gedge  walked  over  to  where  he  sat 
and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  3^ou  after  all  these  years," 
said  Gedge,  and  Smith  looked  at  him  hard. 

"Truth?  "  he  asked. 

"  Solid  frozen  fact,"  said  Gedge. 

They  shook  hands,  and  Gedge  sat  down 
by  him. 

19 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  YouVe  had  trouble  since  you  left  ?  **  said 
Gedge. 

"  I've  had  ten  years'  happiness,  and  now 
it's  done,"  said  the  pioneer.  "  She's  dead, 
old  man." 

''I'm  sorry,"  said  Gedge.  They  did  not 
speak  for  some  minutes,  and  then  Keno  said 
that  his  wife  would  be  sorry  to  hear  it.  But 
old  Smith  did  not  know  that  Gedge  had  been 
married  too, 

"  Oh,  yep,"  said  Gedge,  "  and  since  bein* 
married  I've  understood  what  was  a  puzzle  to 
me  when  you  left  the  country,  Smith." 

They  did  not  speak  of  Hale,  but  Smith 
knew  what  was  in  the  other's  mind.  Keno 
told  him  the  same  story  that  he  had  told  me 
in  the  afternoon. 

"  You  understand  !  "  said  Smith.  "  She  was 
very  delicate,  you  see,  Gedge,  and  she  loved 
me  dear,  and  if  I'd  been  killed  it  would  have 
killed  her.  That's  why  I  turned  coward  and 
stood  what  I  did." 

I  shifted  my  chair  farther  away,  and  the 
scraping  of  the  chair  on  the  rough  flooring 
attracted  the  old  man's  attention.     He  looked 

20 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

at  me,  and  Gedge,  who  was  very  uncom- 
fortable in  his  mind,  introduced  me  as  some 
diversion.  We  talked  of  the  old  days,  of 
which  I  knew  nothing,  and  the  old  pioneer  told 
us  some  strange  tales  as  we  sat  and  smoked. 
But  all  the  time  Hale  was  in  his  mind.  At 
last  Smith  spoke  of  him. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  Hale  now  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Nothin'  to  speak  of,"  said  Gedge;  "but 
I  reckon  he  has  done  well  with  his  business." 

"  Is  he  any  altered  ?  "  asked  Smith,  with 
an  averted  face.  "  Do  folks  speak  well  of 
him?" 

"  Not  to  any  outrageous  extent.  A  mean 
man  is  a  mean  man,  and  don't  give  up  his 
meanness,  accordin'  to  my  observation  of  the 
human  race,"  said  Gedge. 

"I'd  half  hke  to  hear  well  of  him,"  replied 
Smith,  in  a  curious  hollow  voice.  "  If  I  could 
hear  weU  of  him  I  think " 

"  What  d'ye  think.  Smith  ?  " 

But  Smith  did  not  finish  his  broken  sentence. 
But  he  went  on  with  another  that  was  partner 
to  the  thought  that  inspired  it. 

21 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Is  there  anyone  that  loves  him,  Gedge  ? 
Has  he  ever  married  ?  " 

Gedge  shook  his  head. 

"  Has  he  got  a  friend,  an}^  man  who  sticks 
up  for  him  ?  "  insisted  Smith,  as  if  he  was 
anxious  to  be  told  that  this  was  the  case.  I 
saw  that  Gedge  followed  the  workings  of  the 
man's  strange  and  overwrought  mind,  and  he 
hesitated  before  he  replied. 

"  I  don't  know  everything  about  Hale,"  he 
said  reluctantly,  "  and  I  don't  want  to  do 
him  no  injustice.  He  may  hev  a  friend  some- 
where." 

"  But  you've  never  heard  of  one  ?  "  said 
the  pioneer,  with  a  sudden  savage  snap  in  his 
voice  that  made  me  wince.  ''I'm  glad  to 
hear  that,  Gedge,  for  if  I'd  heard  that  he  had 
one  solitary  friend  in  the  State  of  Texas,  or  in 
the  whole  United  States,  I'd  have  started  for 
England  by  the  next  East-bound  express." 

He  looked  at  me  once  more,  and  then  turned 
to  Gedge. 

"  This  young  man  knows  my  story,  Gedge  ?  " 

Keno  nodded,  and  Smith  nodded  too,  and 
was  silent  for  quite  a  while.     When  he  did 

22 


THE  KILLING  OF  "  SWEETWATER  " 

speak  it  was  in  a  low,  concentrated  voice, 
which  was  hard  to  follow.  He  spoke  as  if  he 
was  speaking  to  himself. 

"  I  ain't  forgotten  it.  It  has  bin  a  red-hot 
sore  on  my  mind  all  these  long  years,  even 
when  I  was  happiest  with  my  dear,  dead  wife. 
She  got  to  know  of  it,  for  I  told  her  the  truth 
once,  when  she  thought  I  was  wearied  after 
the  old  life  of  the  prairie.  God  knows  that, 
for  all  her  love,  I  did  hanker  some  to  see  the 
sun  rise  up  in  these  clean  places  of  the  earth, 
but  it  warn't  that  that  made  me  restless  and 
uneasy.  Hale  had  a  notion  how  it  was  with 
me  when  I  was  goin'  back  to  marry  her,  and 
he  played  on  it  and  let  his  native  beastliness 
out  on  me,  knowin'  that  I  would  do  aught 
rather  than  die  before  I  had  lived.  For  then 
the  love  I  bore  her  that  is  dead  was  all  my 
life,  and  I  never  knowed  that  the  time  would 
come  once  more  when  the  open  earth  and 
the  big  prairies  of  Texas  and  Arizona  would 
call  to  me  like  a  deserted  child.  I  took  the 
blow  that  he  gave  me,  for,  with  things  as 
they  was  just  then,  if  I  had  killed  him,  I'd 
hev  had  to  pay  for  it  to  the  law  ;  for  I  had 
23 


PAINTED  ROCK 

enemies,  and  at  that  time  his  father  was  a 
power  in  San  Antone,  and  I  was  no  more  than 
an  EngHshman  and  the  keeper  of  a  store. 
And  if  he  had  killed  me  I  was  dead,  and  the 
blow  would  have  killed  her  I  loved  better  than 
my  whole  soul,  and  I  took  his  blow  and  it 
broke  my  heart;  and  though  I  was  happy  I 
was  miserable  too,  and  it  was  in  my  mind 
always  that  I  had  been  struck  and  had  done 
nothin',  I  that  had  been  on  the  frontier  when 
Hale  was  a  boy,  and  had  earned  a  just  name 
as  a  man  who  was  no  cur.  And  a  year  back 
my  wife  died,  and  I  stayed  because  I  had  a 
little  girl,  and  two  months  ago  death  took 
her  too  ;  and  I  went  back  home  after  buryin' 
her  and  packed  up  my  things,  and  that  very 
day  I  started  for  Texas.  I  said  that  I  would 
seek  out  Hale,  and,  if  he  was  now  a  good 
man,  or  one  that  folks  loved,  or  if  he  had  a 
wife  or  child  that  loved  him,  or  if  there  was 
a  man  who  stood  up  for  him,  I  would  let  him 
go.  I  sought  out  all  that  I  could  find  about 
him  in  Dallas,  and  in  San  Antone  and  in  Sweet- 
water, and  here  in  Painted  Rock,  and  I  find  no 
man  has  a  good  word  for  him,  no,  not  one." 
24 


THE  KILLING  OF  '*  SWEETWATER  " 

His  voice  died  away  into  a  mutter,  and  we 
knew  that  the  hours  of  one  man  were  numbered, 
unless  he  were  favoured  of  fate  or  unless 
someone  warned  him. 

And  Hale  came  into  town  that  night,  and 
not  a  soul  of  all  who  knew  told  him  that 
Smith  was  in  Painted  Rock,  and  that  he  was 
mad.  I  did  not,  for  I  did  not  know  him  and 
could  not  interfere,  and  Gedge  did  not  because 
he  preferred  a  mad  Smith  to  a  sane  Hale,  and 
the  others  did  not  for  many  reasons.  And 
no  one  told  the  City  Marshal,  Ginger  Gillett, 
because  it  would  have  been  Gillett's  duty  to 
interfere  and  lock  up  Smith  there  and  then. 
For  those  are  the  ways  of  the  West,  without 
any  doubt.  And  the  end  of  the  story  of 
Smith  and  Hale  came  that  very  night,  not 
two  hours  after  sundown,  when  the  gambling 
saloons  were  filling  up  and  the  streets  of 
Painted  Rock  were  alive  with  talk  and  laughter. 
I  did  not  see  the  end,  but  I  heard  it ;  and 
Gedge  saw  it,  and  I  came  in  time  to  see  the 
dead  man  before  he  was  dead.  For  Smith  and 
Hale  met  face  to  face  outside  the  American 
Saloon,  in  which  Gedge  and  Pillsbury  had 
25 


PAINTED  ROCK 

their  gambling  lay-outs.  And  Hale  did  not 
know  Smith,  because  the  man  had  altered  so 
much  through  his  happiness  and  his  grief. 
Those  who  saw^  them  meet  say  that  there  was 
but  little  talk,  and  that  the  actual  shooting 
was  so  swift  that  no  one  saw  guns  drawn  till 
the  shots  were  fired.  But  Gedge,  who  had 
heard  that  Hale  was  in  town  and  had  the  ears 
of  a  creature  of  the  forest,  caught  the  first 
words  from  the  inside  of  the  saloon,  and  recog- 
nised the  speakers.  He  dropped  his  cards 
quietly  and  came  out.  At  that  time  I  was 
fifty  yards  away,  in  the  Occidental  House. 

Hale  w^as  now  a  big  and  burly  man,  and 
very  powerful.  His  forehead  was  low  and  his 
mouth  a  close  line,  and  there  were  signs  of 
drink  in  his  face  to  those  who  know  the  lesser 
signs.  He  came  along  the  street  as  if  he 
owned  it,  and  it  must  be  said  he  owned  more 
than  most  people  knew,  for  a  man  who  lends 
money  and  does  it  in  quiet  ways  at  a  high 
percentage  when  times  are  bad,  creeps  behind 
the  outward  names  of  firms  and  fattens  in 
the  dark.  That  is  why  some  did  not  tell  him 
that  Smith,  who  had  sold  out  to  him  in  the 
26 


THE  KILLING  OF  "SWEETWATER" 

old  days,  was  standing  outside  the  American 
Saloon  with  his  eyes  blazing  and  his  tongue 
still.  They  saw  him  and  watched  him,  and 
though  they  stood  clear  they  hoped  for  his 
death.  And  he  came  to  where  Smith  was, 
and,  as  I  say,  did  not  know  him.  But  Smith 
spoke  in  the  tone  of  a  challenge,  and  his  voice 
brought  out  Gedge  as  he  cried — 

"  Hale  !  " 
And  Hale  stopped  dead  and  turned  and  saw 
no  one  that  he  knew,  so  that  he  could  not  say 
who  it  was  of  the  people  about  that  had  spoken 
to  him. 

"  It  was  I  who  called  you,"  said  Smith,  and 
then  a  dim  perception  of  danger  came  to  Hale. 

And  Smith  spoke  again  in  a  high-pitched 
voice. 

"  Don't  you  remember  Smith  of  San 
Antone  ?  "  he  asked.  And  Hale  did  remember, 
and  perhaps  he  grew  a  little  pale.  Gedge  said 
he  did,  but  then  Gedge  did  not  like  him. 

"  The  last  time  you  saw  me,"  said  Smith, 
"  you  struck  me  in  the  face,  and  I  did  nothin'. 
Do  you  remember  that,  Hale  ?  " 

Hale  remembered.     Oh  yes,  he  remembered 
27 


PAINTED  ROCK 

now,  and  he  knew  that  there  was  but  little 
time  to  take  his  choice  of  action.  He  stood 
irresolute,  and  Gedge  says  his  hands  showed 
that  he  had  no  nerve,  for  they  opened  and 
shut,  and  the  bulk  of  the  man  trembled.  He 
stood  and  stared,  and  then  he  spoke,  not  like 
a  man,  but  like  a  beaten  thing  that  plucks 
up  courage  to  pretend  to  courage  as  a  last 
effort  for  life.  And  yet  there  is  no  saying  that 
he  might  not  have  carried  it  off  if  he  had 
followed  his  one  chance  of  salvation  to  its  end. 
"  Oh,  to  be  sure,  my  old  friend  Smith." 
His  voice  shook.  More  than  Gedge  say 
that,  and  yet  he  took  a  half-step  towards  his 
enemy.  If  he  had  laughed  and  gone  right  up 
to  Smith,  the  old  man  might  have  broken 
down  in  his  intent.  So  strange  a  thing  the 
mind  is  !  But  at  the  first  half-step  the  little 
pretence  of  courage  failed  in  the  man  who  had 
none.  It  was  horrible  to  be  confronted  with 
this  ghost  of  the  past,  and  to  see  that  this  was 
a  man  who  cared  not  for  life.  Hale  stopped 
and  his  lip  fell,  and  he  turned — and  ran  ! 

I  heard  the  sound  of  two  quick  shots,  and, 
when  I  came  to  the  American  Saloon,  Hale 
28 


THE  KILLING  OF  "SWEETWATER" 

was  within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  death,  and 

Smith  was  sitting  at  a  table  in  the  saloon,  with 
Gedge  beside  him. 

"  My  wife's  dead,"  said  Smith,  "  and  my 
child  is  dead  too." 

He  is  in  the  State  Asylum  now. 


29 


II 


THE  DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY 
WALKER 

The  sun  was  hot  upon  the  land  and  Double 
Mountain  danced  in  the  haze,  while  Double 
Mountain  Fork,  which  empties  itself  into  the 
Brazos  miles  to  the  northward,  steamed 
between  its  banks.  The  sheep  lay  in  their 
camps  about  the  scanty  mesquite  and  the 
cut  banks  of  the  creek,  and  under  a  couple 
of  cottonwoods  rooting  in  the  slow  waters. 
It  was  the  time  of  day  to  do  nothing,  to  say 
nothing,  and  to  take,  lying  down,  all  the 
hammering  that  the  sun  and  wind  could  give. 
Jeff  said  so,  and  he  lay  down  under  his  cotton- 
wood  near  which  the  sheep  panted,  while  he 
played  lazily  upon  a  rickety  old  mouth-organ. 
And  he  knew  just  about  as  much  of  his  tunes 
as  the  old  man  of  Arkansaw  did.  Like  him, 
31 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Jeff  broke  off  in  the  middle;  and,  unlike  him, 
no  stranger  rode  by  to  eke  out  the  tale-end 
of  the  music.  His  father  came  along  instead, 
for  the  old  man  roused  himself  from  his  bed 
in  the  old  shack  by  the  creek,  and  stared  into 
the  radiance  of  the  day  with  one  shaking 
hand  over  his  eyes — 

"  Jeff !  " 

"  Yep,  Paw,"  said  Jeff,  as  he  scrambled  to 
his  feet.  He  was  a  long,  lean,  and  lank  son 
of  the  prairie,  sandy,  freckled,  hard,  and  fifteen 
years  of  age. 

"  Get  up  the  pinto,"  said  old  Jefferson 
Dexter.     "  Fm  aimin'  to  go  into  the  City." 

Young  Jeff  was  respectful  because  he  had 
been  so  all  his  life.  It  never  occurred  to  him 
to  be  anything  else,  for  the  old  man  had  a 
heavy  hand,  a  fierce  eye,  and  the  temper 
which  gives  his  cutting  edge  to  an  American. 
But  now  he  '  reared  '  a  httle,  and  according 
to  his  o\\m  notion  there  was  reason  for  jibbing. 
He  scratched  his  shock  head,  and  put  his 
mouth-organ  away  inside  his  shirt  before  he 
spoke.  When  he  did  speak  he  uttered  a  fact 
without  the  least  sense  of  reproach  behind  it. 
32 


"  You  was  full  las'  night  when  you  come 
home,  Paw,"  he  said. 

"  I  was,"  said  his  father. 

"  And  mebbe  you  don't  reklec'  what  you 
told  me  ?  " 

Dexter  shook  his  head. 

*'  My  son,  I  don't  reklec'  one  word.  Did  I 
speak  ?    I'd  a  sort  of  kinkle  I  was  speechless." 

Young  Jeff  shook  his  head  in  turn. 

*'  Far  from  it.  Paw,  for  you  sat  on  the  table 
a  good  while,  and  you  yanked  me  outer  bed 
to  hear." 

"  What  did  I  discourse  of  ?  "  asked  his  father. 
"  I  do  hope  I  said  nothin'  unbecomin'  your 
father,  Jeff.  But  sence  your  poor  mother 
payssed  away  into  the  eternal  beyond  I've 
had  less  sense  than  I  should  hev.  Did  I 
blaspheme  any  ?  " 

Jeff  nodded. 

"  Oh  my,  Paw,  you  said  offul  things,  most 
offul." 

"  Can  you  repeat  any  of  'em,  Jeff  ?  "  asked 
his  father  anxiously. 

"  A  whole  lot  I  can,"  replied  Jeff  promptly. 
But  old  Dexter  raised  his  hand. 
c  33 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  My  curiosity  ez  sinful/'  he  said,  "  and 
m  curb  it.  rU  offer  up  a  general  repentance 
scheme  when  the  stiffness  goes  outer  my 
knee.  And  you  forget  what  I  said  mighty 
quick,  or  111  flay  you  some,  I  will.  Get  up 
the  pinto,  Jeff." 

Jeff  showed  reluctance  to  move. 

*'  Paw,  you  mostly  cussed  one  pusson." 

Dexter,  who  had  turned  to  go  back  into 
the  shanty,  faced  his  son  again  swiftly. 

"  I  done  so  ?  " 

"  You  did,  Paw.  As  far  ez  I  could  gather 
up  the  tale  in  the  confusion  of  your  shoutin', 
you  appeared  to  hev  hed  some  sort  of  a 
difficulty  agin  with  Mr.  Walker." 

Dexter's  face  was  as  black  as  a  thunder- 
cloud when  he  heard  what  Jeff  said.  He 
nodded,  and  stared  at  the  boy  from  under  his 
heavy  eyebrows,  which  drooped  like  bent 
thatch  over  his  burning  eyes. 

"  I  do  reklec',"  he  said  at  last,  "  him  and 
me  had  words  I  know, — bad  words,  and  I've 
a  notion  the  boys  pulled  me  down  and  held 
me.  I  knew,  Jeff,  I  hed  business  in  town, 
and  I  couldn't  prop'ly  locate  in  my  mind 
34 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

what  it  was.  That  man  sure  insulted  me  in 
some  way,  havin'  done  it  before,  sayin'  I'd 
brand  mavericks  as  soon  as  eat  pie.  And 
he  went  on  to  throw  out  hints  as  to  brand- 
burning.  Jeff,  my  son,  a  maverick  ain't 
nothing ;  there's  no  reason  a  man  shouldn't 
brand  any  beast  as  his  owner  ain't  keerful  to 
put  a  mark  on.  But  brand-burning  is  a  boss  of 
another  colour,  and  the  insult  bit  into  me.  I 
feel  in  my  bones  he  up  and  said  things.  Get 
up  the  pinto,  Jeff." 

There  was  visible  distress  in  the  boy's 
eyes,  and  he  followed  the  old  man  into  the 
house. 

"  Paw,  don't  you  reckon  it  would  be  wiser 
to  wait  a  day  ?  After  your  jamboree  your 
hand  will  shake  some,  and  they  do  say  that 
Mr.  Walker  shoots  like  death.  There's  many 
he's  killed,  and  you  don't  use  your  gun  oncet 
a  year." 

"  Get  up  the  pinto,  boy,"  said  Dexter. 
"  I  cayn't  wait  a  day  to  learn  what  he 
said  to  me  in  the  American  House  last 
night." 

When  Jeff  opened  his  mouth  again,  the  old 
35 


PAINTED  ROCK 

man  bent  his  brows  on  him  till  his  eyes  were 
almost  invisible. 

"  Get  up  the  pinto,  Jefferson,"  he  said, 
and  poor  Jeff  ran  out  of  the  shack  into  the 
burning  sun  as  the  tears  rolled  down  his 
cheeks. 

"  There's  no  one  but  me,  and  Sis  she's  in 
Ole  Virginny,  and  Mr.  Walker  will  kill  him 
for  sure  if  they  tell  the  trewth  of  him.  But 
now  Paw's  mad.  He's  mad,  and  mebbe  his 
hand  won't  shake." 

He  brought  up  the  "  pinto,"  and  hitched 
the  skewbald  into  the  rattling  old  Stude- 
baker  wagon  which  was  the  carry-all  for 
everything  on  Double  Mountain  Fork.  And 
when  it  was  ready  old  Dexter  was  ready 
too. 

"  I'll  be  back  by  midnight  maybe,"  said 
Dexter.  "  Git  up  thar  !  "  and  he  struck  the 
horse  over  the  flank  with  the  doubled  lines, 
and  so  far  as  Jeff  could  see  the  old  man 
never  turned  his  head  after  the  pinto  once 
got  started.  But  the  boy  stared  down  the 
track  across  the  prairie  which  Texans  call  a 
road,  till  he  could  see  nothing  but  the  brown 
36 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

grasses  of  summer  and  the  dancing  haze  of 
noonday  heat. 

"  Like  enough,"  said  Jeff,  "  I'U  never  see 
the  ole  man  no  more.  He's  stiff  and  rheu- 
maticky, and  he  cay  n't  get  no  gun  out  fast 
enough  for  Walker.  I  dew  wish  that  Walker 
would  run  up  agin  someone  like  Ben  Thompson. 
Ben  Thompson  would  hev  made  him  look  like 
a  Mexican's  blanket,  more  holes  than  wool. 
But  Walker  don't  take  no  chances  thataway. 
He's  no  more  than  a  poor  fool-killer,  and  Paw's 
a  fool." 

Jeff  wiped  away  a  tear,  and  made  himself 
some  coffee  by  heating  up  the  remains  of  his 
Dad's  breakfast.  It  was  a  hard  life  that  he  led, 
and  he  never  knew  it.  The  world  was  big,  so 
he  had  heard,  but  West  Virginia  was  the  end 
of  it  towards  the  East.  A  remote  California  was 
in  the  far  West.  The  round  and  broken  prairie 
was  his  world  ;  and  the  slow  creek  his  river. 
He  wondered  how  much  bigger  the  Mississippi 
was.  For  his  mother,  now  in  the  cemetery 
at  the  '  City  '  toward  which  the  old  pinto  was 
going,  had  come  from  Memphis. 

"  I'd  like  to  go  to  Sis  in  Ole  Virginny," 
37 


PAINTED  ROCK 

said  Jeff,  as  he  took  his  mouth-organ  out  of  his 
shirt  and  went  to  look  at  the  sheep.  "  I 
reckon  they  don't  care  much  for  horegas  in 
Virginny.  I  dew  wonder  some  why  Paw 
hankers  after  sheep  when  he  has  cattle.  A 
sheep  is  sheer  muck  to  a  steer." 

He  sat  by  the  bank  of  the  '  crick  '  and 
played  his  poor  bits  of  tunes,  and  presently, 
as  the  sun  westered  and  the  thin  shadows  of 
the  mesquites  stretched  two  hours'  journey 
on  the  grass,  the  sheep  rose  from  their  camp 
and  started  browsing.  Jeff  whistled  for  his 
dog,  a  lean  mongrel  with  a  big  head  and 
wistful  eyes,  and  started  to  loaf  the  way 
the  herd  of  sheep  went.  He  played  as  he 
walked.  Once  more  young  Pan  piped,  and 
the  haze  at  least  danced.  But  his  heart  was 
heavy. 

"  I  cayn't  play  wuth  a  darn,"  said  Jeff. 
"  Fm  mighty  anxious  about  Paw." 

He  put  away  his  instrument  and  played 
no  more.     He  spoke  to  his  dog. 

''  Bob,  old  son,  if  that  Walker  puts  lead 
into  the  ole  man  I'll — I'll  blow  a  hole  threw 
him  a  rat  ked  crawl  threw." 

38 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

Now,  though  he  piped  no  more,  the  whole 
world  danced  through  his  tears. 

"  Fm  demed  sorry  for  the  ole  man," 
whimpered  his  son ;  "  he  ain't  had  no  circus 
of  a  life.  Things  w^as  tough  back  East,  so  Maw 
used  to  let  on,  and  here  they  was  tough,  and 
then  she  died.  He  ain't  bin  the  same  sence, 
but  more  fierce  and  contrairy ;  and  he  gets  full 
three  to  one  for  what  he  done  w^hen  Maw  was 
alive.  I  dew  wish  I'd  hed  the  savvy  to  go  in 
with  him.     But  he'd  never  ha'  let  me." 

At  sundown  he  corralled  the  sheep  and  their 
lambs  in  a  straggling  mesquite  corral  against 
the  raids  of  coyotes,  and  went  back  to  the 
shanty.  He  cooked  a  mess  of  flour  and  a  bit  of 
bacon,  and  ate  his  supper  very  soberly,  washing 
it  down  with  a  drink  from  the  creek.  Then 
he  sat  outside  on  an  upturned  keg  which 
had  once  held  nails,  and  played  a  little  more 
as  the  night  came  on.  The  stars  broke  out 
in  the  east  and  then  they  shone  over  him, 
and  the  west  was  blue  at  last  as  the  moon  rose 
in  the  east.  The  solace  of  the  time  was  upon 
him,  and  for  a  little  while  his  heart  was 
easier. 

39 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  The  boys  won't  let  Walker  shoot  him  up 
any/'  he  said  hopefully.  "They're  a  fine  lot 
o'  boys  to  the  City,  and  I  reckon  some  day 
they'll  make  Walker  like  a  sieve." 

But  when  he  went  into  the  house  he  took 
down  his  father's  old  shot-gun  and  looked 
at  it. 

"  I'll  be  the  only  one  left,"  said  Jeff  as  he 
put  it  back  in  its  place.  "  The  only  one  but 
Sis." 

But  nevertheless  he  slept  soundly  when  he 
was  once  in  the  blankets,  and  he  never  woke 
till  it  was  past  midnight  and  the  high  moon 
made  the  prairie  almost  as  light  as  day. 
When  he  woke  he  sat  up  suddenly. 

"  Paw  !  "  he  called ;  "  Paw,  ez  that  you  ?  " 

But  there  was  no  answer,  and  he  came  to 
himself. 

*'  I  thot  I  heard  the  ole  man,"  he  said. 
And  even  as  he  spoke  he  heard  the  sound  of  a 
horse  coming  across  the  prairie  at  a  lope.  He 
sprang  out  of  bed  and  ran  to  the  door. 

"  That  ain't  Paw,  onless  he's  left  the  wagon 
to  the  City,"  he  said.     "  There's  times  he  will 
when  he  ain't  sober  and  ain't  rightly  full." 
40 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

Yet  he  knew  how  unhkely  it  was  that  the  old 
man  should  do  so  now.  There  was  seldom  a 
time  that  poor  old  Dexter  wasn't  "  rightly 
full  "  when  he  came  back  home.  And  the 
sound  came  nearer,  nearer  yet.  In  another 
minute  the  horseman  pulled  up  outside  the 
shack. 

"  Ez  that  you,  Jeff  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Why,  certainly,  Bill  Davies,"  said  Jeff, 
with  a  sinking  heart.  "  Wliat's  brot  you  this 
way  ?  Hev  you  come  from  the  City,  and  hev 
you  seen  my  Dad  ?  " 

Bill  Davies  got  off  his  pony,  and  leaving 
it  with  the  bridle  reins  on  the  ground  came 
up  to  Jeff.  He  was  a  cowboy  from  Ennis 
Creek,  and  was  not  often  that  way. 

"  Fve  rode  out  to  tell  about  him,"  said  Bill 
quietly. 

"Oh,"  said  Jeff,  "I  know.  He's  dead, 
BiU  ?  " 

"  He's  gone,  Jeff." 

"  And  Walker  shot  him  ?  " 

"  He's  the  third  Windy  Walker  has  shot  and 
killed  in  two  years,"  said  Davies.  "  And 
'twill  be  self-defence,  Jeff.  Your  old  man 
41 


PAINTED  ROCK 

started  to  pull  on  him,  and  was  as  slow  gettin' 
out  his  gun  as  a  mud- turtle  on  dry  land.  And 
Walker  pulled  down  on  him  and  shot  him 
threw  three  times  before  he  teched  the  ground. 
The  poor  old  man  is  dead,  Jeff.  Don't 
grieve,  Jeff." 

But  Jeff  swallowed  his  tears. 

"  I  ain't  grievin'  now,  Bill  Davies.  I'll  find 
time  to  mourn  for  the  ole  man  when  Walker's 
dead,"  he  said  in  a  choking  voice. 

But  Bill  Davies  shook  his  head. 

"  'Twas  self-defence,  Jeff ;  it  was,  sure. 
For  las'  night  they  had  a  sort  of  difficulty,  and 
we  held  yur  old  man  down,  and  he  said  he'd 
shoot  Walker  on  sight.  And  Walker  laffed. 
And  we  got  yur  Dad  out  o'  town  fightin' 
somethin'  awful.  And  he  pulled  his  gun  first. 
There's  four  to  take  the  stand  and  say  so. 
There  won't  be  no  trouble  for  Walker.  He  says 
he'll  do  the  thing  handsome  and  bury  the  old 
man  in  style." 

Jeff  threw  up  his  head. 

"  You  ain't  defendin'  Walker  none,  are  you. 
Bill  Davies  ?  " 

The  cowboy  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
42 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

"  Me  defend  him,  Jeff !  He's  the  meanest 
sort  of  murderer.  He  don't  take  chances 
with  any  but  old  men  and  tender-feet.  He 
ain't  the  man  to  kill  when  it  ain't  self-defence. 
He  looks  for  self-defence,  and  is  greedy  for  it. 
I'd  like  to  see  him  laid  out  cold,  and  before  I 
buried  him  in  style  I'd  see  the  dogs  eat 
him." 

"  rU  kiU  him,"  said  Jeff.  "  WiU  you  sleep 
here,  Bill,  and  lend  me  your  pony  so's  I  can 
go  into  town  and  see  Paw  ?  I'll  send  the  pony 
back  early." 

"  You  kin  ride,"  said  Bill;  "  I'll  stay  here. 
Do  you  mean  what  you  say,  Jeff  ?  " 

"  Sure's  death,"  said  Jeff.  "  Ain't  he  killed 
Paw  ?     Who  else  is  there  ?  " 

Bill  Davies  took  him  by  the  hand. 
"  You're  a  man,  Jeff,  and  I'll  be  proud  of 
you.     But  reklec'  he's  quick  on  the  trigger. 
Don't    take    no    chances.      He    won't    give 
none." 

"  I'll  give  him  none,"  said  Jeff. 
"  You're  a  boy  after  all,"  mused  the  cow- 
boy, "  and  if  you  kill  him  there  will  be  those 
that'll  sympathise  with  you,  Jeff.     But  p'raps 
43 


PAINTED  ROCK 

you'd  better  go  back  to  Virginia  to  your 
sister." 

To  say  so  was  to  ease  his  mind  of  a  hard 
duty.     Bill  Davies  felt  much  easier  after  it. 

"  I'm  goin'  back  soon,"  said  Jeff. 

And  he  rode  through  the  moonlight  to  the 
town.  He  sent  the  pony  back  as  soon  as  he 
found  his  father's  body,  which  lay  in  the  back 
store  of  the  man  they  usually  dealt  with.  And 
the  funeral  was  next  day.  Walker  did  not 
pay  for  it,  for  Jeff  sent  him  a  message. 

"  He  looked  tolerable  wicked,"  said  the 
man  who  took  it  to  the  slayer. 

"  Did  he  ?  "  sneered  Walker.  "  You  can 
tell  him  to  keep  out  of  my  way.     See  ?  " 

Walker  felt  an  injured  man. 

"  Good  God!"  said  Walker,  ''  shall  I  have 
to  kill  a  boy  ?  " 

But  Jeff  went  back  to  his  place  on  Double 
Mountain  Creek,  and,  the  memories  of  men 
in  the  West  being  short,  the  death  of  old 
Jefferson  Dexter  was  a  thing  forgotten  in  a 
week.  But  the  young  one  didn't  forget. 
And  perhaps  Walker  did  not,  for  the  pride  of 
a  man  who  kills  and  is  not  tried,  or  who  is 
44 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

tried  and  acquitted,  is  something  strange  to 
see.  He  gloried  in  his  strength  and  in  his 
quickness,  and  took  up  attitudes  before  the 
Httle  world  in  which  he  shone.  And  quiet  men 
said  to  themselves  that  Windy  Walker  would 
not  die  in  bed.  But  the  trouble  is  that  quiet 
men  do  not  kill  unless  they  are  obliged  to, 
and  some  men  who  looked  Walker  in  the  eyes 
with  a  savage  challenge  found  him  loath  to 
take  offence. 

"  I  put  up  with  a  mighty  lot  now,"  said 
Walker;  "a  man  with  my  record  should.  I 
want  peace." 

He  still  held  his  own  at  the  American  House, 
where  the  trouble  with  old  Dexter  had  begun, 
and  he  lost  a  few  dollars  regularly  to  the 
gamblers  who  ran  the  faro  and  keno  tables. 
They  sneered  at  him,  but  found  him  a  paying 
streak  in  bad  times.  If  he  gassed  a  little  they 
let  him  gas.  And  the  citizens  of  the  *  City ' 
endured  him.  There  were  some  (quiet  men 
who  did  not  talk)  who  wondered  when  his 
end  would  come.  For  Bill  Davies  said  a  thing 
or  two  to  friends  of  his. 

"  The  boy  hez  a  right  to  kill  him,"  said 
45 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Bill,  "  and  the  right  to  get  the  drop  unseen. 
He's  a  boy  !  " 

Jeff  sometimes  came  into  town,  but  he 
came  in  mostly  by  night,  and  no  one  knew  of 
his  being  there  at  all.  He  used  to  tie  up  the 
old  pinto  outside  the  town  and  come  in  quietly. 
He  mostly  lay  about  the  empty  town  lots 
that  were  at  the  back  of  the  American  House 
and  the  Green  Front,  the  chief  saloons  in 
Colorado  Street.  The  gambling  saloons  of 
both  houses  were  at  the  back,  and  the  windows 
looked  upon  a  waste  of  old  boots,  old  kerosene- 
cans,  and  empty  tomato-cans.  But  the  blinds 
were  usually  drawn.  In  such  a  '  City,'  even 
though  law  and  order  were  gradually  and 
with  great  difficulty  establishing  themselves, 
there  were  many  who  had  a  deeply-rooted 
objection  to  standing  in  a  bright  light  visible 
to  those  who  were  in  darkness.  There  was 
never  any  knowing  who  might  be  out- 
side. 

And  very  often  Jeff  was  outside.  Some- 
times he  heard  the  voices  of  men  he  knew. 
Bill  Davies  was  in  there  at  least  once  a  week. 
He  heard  Simon  Keats,  to  whose  store  his 

46 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

father's  body  had  been  taken.  For  Simon, 
though  a  respectable  store-keeper  by  day, 
had  a  passion  for  faro  which  bloomed  after 
sundown.  And  sometimes  he  heard  Walker. 
But  the  window  was  shut  and  the  blind  was 
down. 

That  year,  as  it  happened,  September 
opened  with  a  blaze  of  heat  that  the  most 
hardened  old-timer  felt.  The  sky  was  brass, 
and  the  winds  that  came  up  out  of  the  Gulf, 
growing  hotter  on  the  fat  corn-lands  of  lower 
Texas,  might  have  come  from  the  pit.  The 
high  plateaux  across  which  the  Texas  Pacific 
Railroad  runs  were  burning ;  stock  died  of 
drought ;  the  prairie  was  fired  by  the  cinders 
of  locomotives.  In  the  *  City,'  sunk  between 
sandhills,  the  heat  was  intense,  and  the 
nerves  of  men  gave  way.  They  only  came 
out  at  night,  and  then  the  saloons  filled. 

"  By  gosh,  it's  hot ! "  said  Davies,  who 
had  been  taking  three  days  in  town;  "  by 
gosh,  it's  hot !  Sam,  don't  you  reckon  it 
might  be  a  trifle  cooler  if  that  window  was 
open  ?  " 

The  bar -tender,  down  whose  face  the 
47 


PAINTED  ROCK 

moisture  ran  in  streams,  admitted  that  the 
experiment  might  be  worth  trying.  "  Though 
whether  it's  hotter  here,  or  outside,  or  in  hell, 
I  cayn't  say,"  he  answered. 

"  Who's  afraid  of  hell  in  this  weather  ?  " 
asked  Windy  Walker  crossly.  "  Open  the 
window,  Sam,  and  let  me  have  a  John  Collins. 
I've  a  thirst  on  me  as  if  a  prairie  fire  was 
ragin'  down  my  throat.  I  dunno  what  foohsh- 
ness  brought  men  to  Texas." 

Sam  went  to  the  window  and  pulled  up  the 
blind.  By  a  curious  instinct,  for  it  was 
hardly  conscious,  Walker  and  two  or  three 
others  moved  out  of  the  direct  line  between 
it  and  the  big  lamp  that  lighted  the  room. 
But  Bill  Da\des  moved  farther  than  anyone. 
Then  Sam  opened  the  window  top  and  bottom, 
and  pulled  the  blind  down  again.  But  it  had 
been  up  long  enough  to  show  some  outside 
that  the  window  was  open. 

"  That's  better,"  said  Walker.  And  he 
went  to  the  faro-table  and  laid  down  a 
dollar. 

"  I  don't  get  between  him  and  the  window," 
said   Davies;    "not    much    I    don't.    Three 
48 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

times  this  month  I've  seen  young  Jeff  ridin* 
along  to  town  at  sundown,  and  if  he  gives 
Walker  a  chance  he's  a  fool.  If  I  was  a 
boy  and  had  the  same  against  Walker 
I'd  say  '  Look  out,  Windy,*  when  he  was 
dead." 

But  the  room  was  crowded  and  the  play 
went  on.  Da  vies  didn't  play  ;  his  nerves  were 
on  the  stretch.  Something  seemed  to  tell 
him  that  Walker's  time  was  coming ;  he  felt 
as  some  do  when  thunder  is  brewing  in  a 
great  and  heavy  calm.  And  suddenly  he 
went  curiously  white. 

"  That  blind's  higher  than  it  was,"  he  said. 
But  no  one  else  saw  it.  They  faced  the 
tables  ;  the  talk  of  the  faro-dealer  went  on ; 
a  lucky  man  cried  "  Keno  !  "  They  swore  and 
cursed  and  drank.  And  then  Davies  saw 
fingers  at  the  blind  cord,  only  fingers.  The 
blind  went  up  three  inches.  He  drew 
back  still  farther  and  stood  against  the 
waU,  with  an  extinguished  cigar  between 
his  teeth  and  his  cow-hat  over  his  eyes. 
He  looked  at  Walker,  who  was  in  a 
crowd. 

D  49 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Dern  my  luck/'  said  Walker,  "  that's 
five  dollars." 

He  made  a  motion  to  get  out  of  those  who 
stood  with  him,  and  Bill  Davies  almost  called 
to  him. 

'  "  It's  not  my  funeral,"  he  said  grimly  as 
he  restrained  himself.  And  he  looked  again 
at  the  window.  On  the  sill,  close  to  the 
corner,  he  saw  something  move  a  little. 

''  That  lets  me  out,"  said  Walker,  cursing 
as  he  stepped  back  clear  of  his  companions. 
And  as  he  did  so  there  was  a  deafening  report. 
Bill  saw  flame  leap  from  the  muzzle  of  a 
gun,  and  Walker  threw  up  his  hands  and 
gasped  horribly.  Then  he  pitched  upon  the 
floor  and  lay  there.  A  dozen  men  had  their 
"  guns  "  in  their  hands  at  the  sound. 

"  By  God!"  said  one  of  them,  ''  that  was 
from  the  winder." 

One  man,  quicker  than  the  rest,  put  up  his 
hand,  pulled  the  string  of  the  lamp,  and  the 
room  was  in  darkness.  Bill  Davies  jumped 
to  the  window  and  through  it,  and  came  upon 
Jeff  Dexter  with  his  shot-gun  in  his  hand. 
The  boy  was  crying  dreadfully.  Before  they 
50 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

could  speak,  other  men  followed  Davies,  and 
some  came  round  the  house  from  the  front. 

"  It's  Jeff  Dexter  as  done  it,"  said  Bill. 

There  was  a  curious  gasp  of  relief  from 
those  who  stood  by  him  and  Jeff.  Old  Simon 
Keats  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  Boys,  he  had  a  right  to,"  he  said. 
*'  Walker  killed  his  Dad,  and  he's  a  boy.  He 
had  no  call  to  speak  to  Windy  first,  under 
the  circumstances." 

But  Jeff  still  sobbed. 

"  What'll  we  do,  boys  ?  "  asked  Bill 
Davies. 

"  We'll  save  the  boy  trouble,"  said  Keats. 
"  It's  allowed  young  Jeff  ain't  done  no  harm 
in  killing  Windy  ?  " 

"  That's  so,"  said  the  bystanders. 

"  Then  send  him  back  to  Virginia  to  his 
sister,"  said  Keats.  "  There's  the  East-bound 
express  due  in  less'n  twenty  minutes.  Will 
you  go,  bud  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he'll  go,"  said  Davies.  "  Hev 
you  any  money,  Jeff  ?  " 

Jeff  had  none  on  him.  A  dozen  men  offered 
him  bills  and  silver. 

51 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  And  ril  buy  you  out,  stock  and  all, 
Jeff,"  said  old  Keats,  "  at  a  price  that  all 
here  will  say  is  fair." 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  said  the  crowd. 

"  And,  what's  more,  I'll  go  with  you  to  Fort 
Worth,"  said  Keats.  "  Come  along,  sonny. 
There's  no  time  to  lose." 

They  walked  towards  the  railroad  depot. 

"  One  of  us'll  go  to  the  City  Marshal 
and  say  Windy's  gone  up  the  flume," 
said  Sam  the  bar-tender.  "  And  we'll  drop 
a  hint  the  boy  had  rode  back  to  his 
ranch." 

And  as  they  walked,  Jeff  held  Bill  Davies* 
hand  and  trembled  violently. 

"  Mr.  Keats,  I'd  like  to  give  Bill  my  dog 
Bob,  and  my  old  pinto  pony,"  he  said.  "  Will 
you  take  them,  Bill  ?  " 

"  To  bee  sure,"  said  Bill. 

"  The  pinto's  tied  to  a  mesquite  t'other 
side  of  the  Wolf  Crick,"  said  Jeff.  "  He's  a 
mighty  good  pony  for  slow  work." 

"  I'll  not  hurry  him,"  said  Bill.  And  they 
reached  the  depot  just  as  the  East-bound 
express  came  in. 

52 


DIFFICULTY  WITH  WINDY  WALKER 

"  Buck  up,"  said  Bill.  *'  You  done  right, 
Jeff." 

"  Did  I  ?  "  asked  Jeff. 

"Sure  'nuff,"  said  Bill.  "  Windy's 
dead." 


53 


Ill 

THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

His  real  Christian  name,  or  first  name,  as  they 
put  in  the  United  States,  was  Robert,  but  no 
one  acquainted  with  the  West  would  for  one 
instant  imagine  that  so  insignificant  a  word 
could  survive  the  contrast  with  his  hair.  A 
man  with  brown  or  black  locks  might  have 
been  called  Bob,  but  a  red-gold  head  and  a 
blazing  beard  mean  that  a  man's  obvious 
destiny  is  to  be  called  '  Ginger.'  And  he 
was  called  Ginger  before  his  real  name  was 
known  to  any  citizen  of  Painted  Rock.  For 
when  Ginger  Gillett  '  struck  '  Painted  Rock, 
he  struck  it  hard,  and  was  landed  in  the  middle 
of  a  group  with  a  broken  arm,  a  cut  forehead, 
and  all  his  senses  knocked  '  galley-west.'  It 
was  a  remarkable  incident  in  the  history  of  the 
City,  and  one  which  led  to  great  improvements 
55 


PAINTED  ROCK 

in  the  tone  and  conduct  of  affairs  in  that 
particular  portion  of  Texas.  They  often  spoke 
of  it  in  Painted  Rock,  and  invariably  related 
the  history  to  any  stranger.  They  told  it  me, 
for  instance,  within  twenty-four  hours  of  my 
reaching  the  place,  and  I  ow^ned,  as  I  stood 
liquor  to  those  assembled  in  the  American 
House,  that  it  was  a  romance. 

Pillsbury  told  the  yarn,  and  told  it  fairly 
well,  for  Pillsbury  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  the 
West  and  knew  life.  He  was  a  gambler,  and 
reckoned  honest.  He  never  killed  anybody 
if  he  could  help  it,  and  was  thus  known  to  be 
peaceful  and  on  the  side  of  law  and  order. 

"  Ginger  Gillett  don't  trouble  me  none,"  he 
said.  "I'm  for  Ginger  every  time.  The 
Marshal  of  thishyer  City  hez  to  be  a  man,  and 
he  WTiz  sent  here  by  a  special  Prov'dence,  or 
I  know  nothin'  of  Prov'dence,  boys.  I  play  a 
fair  game  :  I  love  honesty  and  righteousness. 
There's  nothin'  betwixt  the  lids  o'  the  Bible 
that's  down  on  faro.  The  word's  never 
mentioned  from  Genesis  to  Revelations,  for  the 
Pharaoh  that  is  spoke  of  so  frequent  was  not 
a  game  of  kyards  but  a  king.     A  gospel-sharp 

56 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

told  me  so.  Ginger  knows  that,  and  he 
knows  men  will  hev  a  game.  It's  natur',  natur' 
straight.  There's  more  peace  to  play  faro 
sence  Ginger  ran  the  hull  show.  The  man's  a 
fool  that  thinks  a  fair-minded,  honest  gambler 
don't  want  peace.  I'll  tell  you  how  Ginger 
kem  here.  It  wuz  a  row-mance,  a  fair  row- 
mance.  I  see  him  come  myself.  I  wuz  down 
to  the  Deep6  when  he  arrived  by  special 
freight.     Tom,  I'll  hev  another,  I  guess." 

We  leant  on  the  bar  and  listened.  All  but 
myself  had  heard  the  story  a  thousand  times, 
but  life  is  dull  in  the  West  unless  things  are 
booming,  and  the  love  of  a  story  is  a  part  of 
Hfe. 

"  'Twas  a  sizzling  hot  mawnin',"  said 
Pillsbury,  "  and  ten  years  ago,  and  Painted 
Rock  when  it's  hot  is  hell  in  a  mug  without 
water.  A  dozen  of  us  was  loafin'  at  the 
Deep6.  We'd  come  to  see  the  West-bound 
express  go  through,  and  she  was  an  hour 
behind  the  schedule  along  of  a  burnt  trestle 
the  other  side  of  Sweetwater.  'Twas  so  hot 
when  she  got  away  that  we  stayed,  put  under 
the  shade,  cussin'  about  the  flies  and  the  sand, 
57 


PAINTED  ROCK 

and  sich-like,  when  a  freight  comes  bumpin* 
along,  a  freight  that  hed  been  side-tracked 
to  Sweetwater  to  let  the  express  pass  through. 
None  of  us  paid  no  attention,  for  I  wuz  showin' 
him  that  was  City  Marshal  then  (Green  his 
name  was,  Ben  Thompson  shot  and  killed  him 
over  to  San  Antone)  how  to  rise  up  the  four 
Jacks  outer'n  the  pack.  And  bump,  bump 
kim  along  the  freight,  and  suthin'  w^nt  wrong 
with  a  switch,  and  the  old  freight  took  the 
wrong  track  and  bumped  into  a  no-thorough- 
fare, so  to  speak,  and  stopped  up  agin  a  sand- 
bank with  a  jerk.  And  nat'rally  the  kyars 
played  hell  and  piled  themselves  up,  but 
luckily  for  us  on  the  platform  they  deecided 
to  fall  the  other  way.  But  before  they  fell 
the  door  of  a  box  car,  which  was  crumpled  up 
like  as  if  a  bull  hed  charged  an  empty  kerosene- 
can,  bust  open,  and  suthin'  inside  spanged 
Ginger  right  in  among  us,  spoiling  my  trick 
and  upending  ole  Green  among  a  pile  o'  lamps, 
where  he  cussed  very  blasphemous,  enough  to 
hurt  the  feelin's  of  a  strict  atheist.  And  me, 
I  stretched  out  Ginger  fiat  and  diskivered  a 
broke  arm,  and  I  plastered  up  a  cut  in  his  open 

58 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

countenance  you  could  have  hid  a  ten-cent 
seegar  in,  and  presently  he  kem  to  and  smiled, 
like  as  if  he  was  sure  confused,  and  said  suthin'." 

And  Pillsbury  paused  to  drink. 

"  And  what  did  he  say  ?  '*  I  asked. 

"  You'll  admire  to  hear,"  said  Pillsbury, 
"  you'll  fair  admire  !  He  says  in  a  fierce 
whisper,  '  Partner,  who  slung  me  off  the 
train  ?  '  And  I  says,  '  Ole  man,  his  name's 
Prov'dence,  and  he's  hard  to  beat.'  And  he 
replies  as  he  faints  away,  '  What's  his  other 
name  ?  '  And  ole  Green  hears  him,  as  he 
waz  pickin'  broke  glass  out  of  the  seat  of  his 
pants  very  tender,  and  he  says,  '  I  reckon 
this  ginger-headed  stranger  introduced  to 
Painted  Rock  so  sudden  is  somewhat  of  a  man, 
or  he  wouldn't  be  for  stowin*  the  whole  name 
and  deescription  of  Providence  away  in  his 
mind  till  he's  well  agin.'  And  he  says, 
'  Pillsbury,  what  with  glass  and  oil  I'm  not 
fit  for  activity,  so  I'll  look  after  the  ginger- 
headed  arrival  what  bucks  up  agin  destiny, 
while  you  goes  and  digs  out  the  engineer  of 
this  freight.'  And  that's  how  Ginger  Gillett 
struck  Painted  Rock,  and  how  ole  Green  took 
59 


PAINTED  ROCK 

to  him  and  started  him  upon  a  risin'  path 
wot  has  led  him  to  bein'  City  Marshal  in  this 
noble  and  rising  City  in  the  south  of  the 
Panhandle.  I  tell  you  it's  a  fair  row-mance. 
A  row-mance  is  wot  it  is,  worthy  of  print.'* 

"  Fd  admire  to  hev  Ginger  Gillett's  life 
wrote  up/'  said  Jack  Gray.  ''  It  would  ekal, 
or  a'most  ekal,  the  story  of  the  James 
Brothers." 

''  And  on  top  of  that,  it  would  be  much 
more  moral  and  improvin',"  said  Pillsbury. 
"  The  James,  and  you  hev  to  own  it,  was  a 
devastatin'  crowd,  and  peace  never  flourished 
where  they  abounded;  but  since  Ginger's 
took  hold  of  Painted  Rock,  we've  had  peace 
for  weeks  at  a  time,  whole  weeks  with  never 
a  gun  pulled,  and  difficulties  smoothed  over 
that  in  bigger  cities  than  this  would  hev  led 
to  a  boom  in  coffins  and  coffin  fixin's.  Why, 
I've  not  hed  occasion  to  as  much  as  look  at  a 
man  crooked  for  a'most  a  month.  The  moral 
improvement  in  Painted  Rock  hez  no  parallel 
since  Dodge  City  secured  havin'  the  railroad 
by  becomin'  moral  in  a  week  by  city  ordinance  ; 
which  led  to  cruelty  to  gamblers.  Sudden 
60 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

improvements  ain't  no  good.  Ginger's  gradual 
with  everything  but  an  immediate  disturb- 
ance, and  he's  makin'  law  and  morals  popular 
where  I  never  reckoned  to  see  'em  stood  for  an 
instant." 

He  turned  to  me. 

"  You  bein'  a  stranger,  and  likely  from  the 
East,  which  lets  on  to  hev  a  monopoly  of 
virtue,  will  see  nothin'  in  Painted  Rock  to 
excite  uncalled-for  remarks  if  it  was  to  occur 
in  Boston.  And  the  man  that  says  different 
ez  a  liar." 

The  rest  of  the  citizens  there  assembled 
said  Pillsbury  was  no  liar,  but  far  more 
truthful  than  usual  even  in  that  moral  city. 
And  the  meeting  adjourned.  Thereby  I  lost 
the  rest  of  the  story  of  the  rise  of  Ginger 
Gillett  till  I  had  had  the  honour  of  being 
introduced  to  him.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I 
introduced  myself  without  ceremony  on  the 
occasion  of  Keno  Gedge  arresting  his  own  son 
before  a  killing  had  time  to  take  place.  As 
the  riot  happened  in  the  American  House, 
Pillsbury  was  in  it  of  course,  and  when  I  came 
back  from  the  gaol  to  which  young  Gedge  had 
6i 


PAINTED  ROCK 

been  conveyed,  he  went  on  with  the  interrupted 

history. 

"  Now,  as  a  tender-foot,"  said  the  moral 
Pillsbury,  "  you  have  a  remarkable  objec' 
lesson  in  the  misuse  of  drink  and  guns  and 
language  in  this  late  lamentable  breakin'  out 
of  young  Gedge.  Young  Gedge  hears  that 
some  gent  has  been  lettin'  on  that  he  don't 
play  fair  with  his  father.  That's  the  first  sad 
step  to  disaster.  Young  Gedge  chews  on  this, 
and  findin'  it  remarkable  dry  chewin',  washes 
it  down  with  liquor.  Without  slanderin'  them 
that  sells  liquor,  I  may  go  so  far  as  to  state 
tolerable  free  that  all  liquor  sold  in  Painted 
Rock  doesn't  soothe  the  irritated  child  of 
nature  like  soothin'  syrup.  So  young  Gedge 
gets  his  gun  and  goes  huntin'  for  the  loose- 
lipped  gent  wot  said  he  did  his  father  over 
money  matters ;  and  carrying  a  gun  thataway 
is  dry  work,  and  it  was  obvious  to  me  when 
the  boy  come  in  and  talked  very  free  that  in 
less  than  nineteen  minutes  and  three-quarters 
by  the  clock  over  Bailey's  store  he  would 
opine  the  first  man  he  saw  was  good  enough 
to  shoot  at.  I  took  counsel  with  myself  and 
62 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

the  bar-keep,  and  sent  for  Keno  himself.  And 
Ukewise,  I  own,  I  sent  for  Ginger  Gillett  too. 
The  rest  you  know.  Young  Gedge  pulled  on 
Ginger  and  shot  his  own  father.  Let's  hope 
Keno  will  get  well,  for  if  he  doesn't  it  will  lie 
heavy  on  his  son.  Although  the  whole  affair 
has  not  eventuated  in  the  way  I  reckoned, 
I  don't  blame  myself.  The  reesponsibility  lies 
on  young  Gedge  and  Ginger.  I  think  I  was 
tellin'  you  a  day  or  two  back  how  Ginger  came 
here,  and  in  what  dramatic  sort  he  lit  among 
us,  like  a  hawk  on  a  June  bug." 

"  You  were,"  I  said.  And  I  went  on  to 
say  that  there  were  two  rocking-chairs  vacant 
on  the  verandah,  and  that  I  trusted  he  would 
drink  a  John  Collins  with  me  and  go  on  with 
the  tale  there  and  then. 

"  Well,  I  don't  mind  if  I  do,"  said  PiUsbury. 

He  took  a  drink  and  resumed  the  history. 

"  As  I  let  on,  he  was  fair  bust  up  that  first 
appearance  of  his,  and  it  took  him  some  time 
to  knit  up  his  arm  and  get  strong  again.  And 
all  that  time  he  stayed  in  ole  Green's  house, 
and  Green  loved  him,  fairly  loved  him  in 
spite  of  the  glass  in  him  which  worked  out 

63 


PAINTED  ROCK 

for  weeks  afterwards.  It  appeared,  so  Green 
said,  that  Ginger  hed  hed  severe  trouble  over 
a  girl  in  Mizzoura  who  loved  some  other  chap 
better.  And  whether  Ginger  killed  him  or  not 
I  can't  say.  Green  didn't  know,  but  he 
opined  that  the  intrusive  lover  was  not  calcu- 
lated to  shine  as  a  professional  beauty  after 
Ginger  had  got  through  with  him;  and  he 
said  Ginger  should  be  a  son  to  him,  which  was 
curious,  for  Green  had  a  son,  and  by  no  means 
was  much  of  a  father  to  him  save  in  the  matter 
of  cowhidin'  the  boy,  which  led  to  young 
Green  shiftin'  camp  and  goin'  to  Arizona. 
And  when  Ginger  was  fit  he  ran  around  with 
old  Green  and  jined  in  his  business,  and  got 
very  popular  by  reason  of  his  ways.  I  reckon 
he  soon  got  over  the  melancholy  that  rose  up 
in  him  at  the  thought  of  the  Mizzoura  gal; 
for,  as  you  may  hev  noticed,  a  bright  red 
head  and  a  yaller  beard  inspires  great  interest 
in  women  for  some  reason  deep  in  nature 
with  which  I  hev  no  sympathy,  although  I'm 
one  of  them  that  admires  Gillett.  I  admire 
him  in  spite  of  his  redness,  and  the  women-folk 
seem  to  admire  him  for  it,  which  is  redik'lus, 
64 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

but  deeply  natural  as  aforesaid.  And  Green 
said  openly  that  when  he  quit  this  mortal 
sphere  and  the  Panhandle  of  Texas,  Ginger 
was  the  man  to  be  City  Marshal.  Now  the 
truth  is,  and  I  would  have  stated  it  to  Green 
himself,  that  he  was  not  the  highest  and  most 
shining  sort  of  Marshal  himself.  He  was  too 
easy  with  everybody,  and  he  loved  sleep  a 
whole  lot.  A  City  Marshal  in  Texas  should 
be  awake  eighteen  hours  out  of  twenty-four, 
and  off  en  twenty-four,  takin'  what  rest  he  can 
when  peace  blooms  rarely.  But  Green  liked 
the  blankets,  and  it  took  a  powerful  deputa- 
tion to  get  him  out  of  'em.  I  went  around 
to  his  shack  one  night  no  later  than  one 
o'clock,  and  interviewed  him  through  the 
window  with  regard  to  two  toughs  that  had 
come  into  the  town  from  El  Paso,  on  an  occasion 
when  all  our  best  men  was  away  at  Sweetwater 
for  a  trial  that  was  on  there.  And  Green  let 
on  that  he  reckoned  it  would  do  the  town 
good  to  be  shook  out  of  its  calm  a  bit,  and 
that  he  would  attend  to  the  matter  in  the 
morning.  And  next  morning  he  triumphed 
over  my  mournful  prognostications  because 
E  65 


PAINTED  ROCK 

the   two   toughs   was   dead,   havin'    come   to 
words   as   to   whether   Painted    Rock   was   a 
poorer  town  in  spirit  than  some  other  town 
they'd  been  playin'   up  in,   which  was  very 
trying  to  hear,   but   I   was   disabled  with  a 
stab  in  my  right  arm.     And  they  actuly  shot 
each  other,  and  the  argument  was  undecided. 
But,  as  I  was  sayin',  Green  nominated  Ginger 
as  his  successor,  and  there  was  a  party  for 
him,   the  women  bein'  keen  on  him  I  must 
say.     But  his  rival,  who  was  named  Keeley, 
had  a  large  followin'  like\\'ise,  and  if  it  had 
come  to  votes  it  would  have  been  a  narrow 
squeak  as  to  which  came  out  on  top.     How- 
ever, there  was  no  real  votin'  on  it,  and  it  was 
through  me  there  wasn't.     For  when  poor  old 
Green  was  done  up  at  San  Antone  by  Ben 
Thompson,  that  met  his  fate  in  — 84  at  the 
hands   of   King   Fisher   and   M'Coy,    me   and 
Ginger  pooled  our  brains,   so  to  speak,   and 
it  was  me  that  got  him  in.     You  see,  Ginger 
was   from   Mizzoura,  and    Keeley  was   Texas 
to     the     finger-tips,     and     that     was     agin 
Ginger.      And    the    women    made    the    men 
jealous  mebbe.     Anyhow,  as  I  said  to  Ginger, 
66 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

it    was    a    matter   that    shouldn't    come    to 
votin'. 

"  '  How'll  we  avoid  it  ?  '  asked  Ginger. 

**  '  Easy,'  said  I ;  for,  you  see,  I  knew  the 
town  and  its  nature  better  than  he  did.  And 
in  the  silent  hours  of  the  early  momin'  I'd 
evolved  a  plan  to  get  him  in.  I  wanted 
him,  for  Keeley  was  too  much  in  with  the 
deadly  new  respectable  element  that  was 
down  on  gamblers.  The  gospel-sharp  was 
for  him;  and  out  of  four  law-sharps,  three 
said  Keeley  every  time. 

"  And  therefore  I  eelaborated  my  scheme 
to  Ginger,  and  he  said  whatever  happened 
he'd  stand  by  me  so  long  as  I  played  a  straight 
game.  He  knew  me.  And  I  arranged  a  little 
private  gatherin'  of  them  that  favoured 
Ginger  in  place  of  Green,  and  I  put  the  kyards 
face  up  on  the  table  that  would  win  the  game. 
And  then  we  started  playin'.  Did  we  run 
down  Keeley  ?  No,  not  by  a  Standard  Oil 
tank-full !  We  went  round  sayin'  that  Keeley 
was  a  fine  man,  and  a  real  son  o'  Texas,  and 
as  hard  as  they  were  made,  and  an  elegant 
fit  for  the  post-hole  left  vacant  by  the  un- 

67 


PAINTED  ROCK 

timely  uprootin'  of  poor  ole  Green.  But 
we  said,  likewise,  that  Ginger,  though  from 
Mizzoura,  was  perhaps  a  leetle  better  as  a 
man.  I  said  publicly  that  I  reckoned  that  if 
it  came  to  a  wrastlin'  match  between  the  two 
that  Ginger  could  down  Keeley.  *  Not  but 
that  Keeley's  a  stout  man,'  I  said.  And 
Gedge  let  on  that  Ginger  could  shoot  quicker 
and  straighter  than  Keeley,  though  there 
was  few,  if  any,  in  Painted  Rock  that  could 
ekal  him.  And  the  result  of  this  was  that 
the  hull  town  was  presently  standin'  around 
in  groups  holdin'  animated  and  fierce  dis- 
cussions as  to  which  was  the  best  man  of  the 
two.  And  the  office  of  City  Marshal  bein' 
vacant,  and  each  candidate  eager  to  please, 
there  was  little  interference  with  disputes,  and 
the  death-rate  threatened  to  jump  like  that 
of  flies  at  the  first  norther.  And  me  and 
Keeley's  prime  supporter  had  words  on 
Main  Street,  and  then  I  played  four  aces 
and  the  joker,  so  to  speak.  Said  I,  '  My 
son,  I've  a  hundred  dollars  in  my  pocket 
that's  yellin'  to  be  3/ours  if  Ginger  can't 
down  Keeley  in  the  plaza  and  take  him 
68 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

to  the  calaboose    and    lock    him    up   single- 
handed.' 

"  '  By  gosh ! '  says  he,  'I've  a  hundred 
shriekin'  like  the  American  Eagle  in  the  blue 
sky  o'  freedom  that  Keeley  can  do  that  same 
to  Ginger  Gillett.' 

"  *  Shake  hands  on  it/  says  I.  *  It's  a 
bet!' 

"And  the  crowd  cheered,  and  started  in 
bettin'  there  and  then,  till  about  twenty 
thousand  dollars  hung  in  the  balance,  and 
the  excitement  was  extreme  and  wild.  And 
who  should  come  along  right  then  but  Ginger 
and  Keeley,  who  was  quite  good  friends, 
though  nat 'rally  a  little  shy  of  each  other  just 
at  that  time.  And  the  crowd  runs  to  'em 
and  explains  riotously  how  things  was  comin' 
up,  and  though  Ginger  was  lookin'  for  some- 
thing of  the  kind,  Keeley  warn't,  and  showed 
some  surprise  at  what  had  transpired  in  the 
interim  of  his  takin'  two  drinks  with  two 
admirers. 

"'There's  millions  on  you,  Keeley,'  said 
the  boys  that  was  backin'  Keeley ;  '  we've  put 
our  last  dollar  on  you.     Can  you  down  Ginger 

69 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Gillett  in  the  plaza  and  tote  him  to  the  cala- 
boose ?  ' 

"  '  Can  I  what  ?  '  asks  Keeley,  some  con- 
fused. And  seventeen  explained  to  him  at 
the  top  o'  their  voices,  and  the  sport  in  him 
woke  up,  and  he  let  on,  modestly  enough, 
that  he'd  do  his  best. 

"  And  Ginger  let  on  that  he  also  would  do 
his  best.  And  the  town  struck  work,  and  the 
stores  shut  up,  and  it  was  like  as  if  the  Fourth 
of  July  had  been  sprung  on  us  in  April,  and 
everyone  talked,  and  the  bars  was  full,  and 
the  womenfolk  came  out  to  see, — Painted  Rock 
buzzed  like  a  hive  of  bees.  I  never  see  the 
like.  But  I  was  busy,  for  it  had  to  be 
arranged,  and  me  and  his  chief  supporter 
did  it,  and  we  drew  up  regulations  for 
the  Roman  combat  in  the  plaza  with  a 
view  of  obviatin'  any  difficulty  hereafter. 
And  our  rules  for  the  circus  was  roughly 
these  : — 

"First.  The  combat  will  take  place  in 
three  days,  so  as  to  avoid  trainin*,  seein' 
that  we  want  the  nat'rally  best  man. 

*' Second.   The   trouble    will    commence    in 
70 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

the  exact  measured  middle  of  the  plaza  at 
two  p.m.,  in  ordinary  clothes. 

"  Third.  The  combatants  may  carry  guns, 
but  they  must  be  unloaded  and  only  usable  as 
clubs. 

"Fourth.  Knives  forbidden;  biting  and 
gouging  hkewise,  as  ladies  will  be  present. 

"  Fifth.  If  either  fails  to  lock  up  the  other, 
points  will  be  allowed  and  the  struggle  re- 
sumed on  the  followin'  day. 

"Sixth.  If  the  fight  ends  in  a  draw,  the 
combatants  will  draw  lots  and  the  loser  will 
leave  the  town  for  a  month. 

"Seventh.  After  winning  the  winner  will 
pay  loser's  fare  to  Fort  Worth,  and  loser 
will  undertake  to  stay  there  one  month. 

"  There  was  other  rules  which  I  disremember, 
and  me  and  Ed  Smith  (Keeley's  chief  sup- 
porter) and  the  doctor  was  made  umpires. 
And  I  can  tell  you  we  had  some  business  to 
transact.  For  it  soon  got  put  around  the 
country  what  was  going  on,  and  every  cowboy 
within  sixty  miles  came  in  howling  and  hot  to 
see  the  show.  The  town,  bein'  excited  and 
generous  and  sportin',  put  up  barriers  at  the 
71 


PAINTED  ROCK 

public  expense  around  the  locality  in  the 
plaza  where  the  fight  was  to  be,  for  we  reckoned 
it  was  goin'  to  advertise  Painted  Rock  some 
and  no  mistake.  And  then  the  day  came,  and 
Ginger  and  Keeley  and  me  and  Ed  Smith  and 
the  doctor  (his  name  was  Whalley,  and  he 
died  of  drink  later)  stepped  out  into  the  plaza, 
like  as  if  we  was  toreadors  in  a  bull-ring,  and 
the  crowd  shouted  something  prodigious,  and 
swayed  till  the  barriers  cracked.  And  the 
windows  was  full,  and  so  was  the  roofs,  and 
the  roof  of  the  gaol  was  packed  hkewise.  And 
I  said,  *  Gentlemen,  Mr.  Keeley  and  Mr.  Gillett, 
shake  hands.'  And  they  shook  hands,  and 
made  a  fine  sight,  two  real  good  men  with  their 
eyes  like  coals  and  all  ready.  And  Ed  Smith, 
who  warn't  goin'  to  allow  me  to  do  all  the 
oratin',  said,  '  Now,  gentlemen,  at  the  word 
"  Go  "  you  will  endeavour  to  arrest  each  other 
for  the  sake  of  law  and  order.'  And  then  the 
doctor  he  chipped  in  and  said,  '  Go  !  '  And  the 
trouble  began  at  two  sharp,  and  it  began 
perfectly  curious.  For  Ginger  smiled,  and  he 
said,  *  Mr.  Keeley,  I'll  trouble  you  to  come 
along  with  me  this  fifty  yards  to  the  calaboose  ! ' 
72 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

And  Keeley  replied,  *  I  was  just  goin'  to  ask  you 
the  same.  How  surprisin'.'  And  they  circled 
about  each  other  like  dogs,  and  us  umpires 
retired  a  few  paces  and  stood.  And  all  of  a 
sudden  they  grabbed  each  other,  and  the  dust 
flew  violent.  You  may  hev  noticed  that 
the  dust  in  the  plaza  is  mighty  thick  and  red 
and  light.  For  a  whole  minute  we  could 
hardly  see  these  two  gladiators  circusing  round 
like  a  teetotum ;  and  then  there  was  a  bigger 
cloud  and  a  thud,  and  when  the  dust  laid  a 
bit  the  two  was  on  the  ground  with  Keeley 
on  top.  And  the  Gingerites  groaned,  and  the 
Keeleyites  yelled,  and  I  felt  some  sick  myself. 
But  of  course  this  was  no  more  than  the 
openin'  of  the  drayma ;  and  how^  was  Keeley 
to  take  Ginger  unless  he  could  get  up  ?  That's 
what  I  said  to  Smith  when  he  let  on  that  my 
hundred  dollars  was  as  good  as  in  his  pocket. 
I  said  '  As  good  as  in  hell.'  And  then  the 
dust  flew  again,  and  when  it  settled  Ginger 
w^as  on  top,  and  the  crowd  yelled  again.  And 
now  I  could  see  that  all  Ginger  wanted  was 
to  get  up  while  Keeley  was  down.  But  Keeley 
was  a  tolerable  hold-fast,  and  it  took  Ginger 
71 


PAINTED  ROCK 

half  an  hour  by  the  clock  to  work  free,  and 
when  he  did  he  was  mighty  dishevelled,  with 
scarce  a  button  to  him.  But  at  last  he 
scratched  himself  around  till  he  was  nigh 
free,  and  then  those  that  was  for  him  yelled, 
'  Give  him  the  butt  of  your  gun,  Ginger,  and 
stiffen  him ! '  and  I'm  not  sayin'  they  weren't 
right.  But  just  as  he  got  his  gun  out  Keeley 
made  a  mighty  twist  and  got  hold  of  it,  and 
chucked  it  a  good  ten  yards  away.  And  then 
Ginger  spoke.  He  said,  '  All  right,  my  son,  I 
can  do  without  it.'  He  rose  up  on  his  knees, 
and  the  next  moment  he  flew  over  Keeley  and 
Keeley  was  on  top,  and  then  Keeley's  friends 
yelled  for  him  to  give  Ginger  the  butt  of  his 
gun.  And  the  next  news  that  emerged  from 
the  sand-storm  was  Keeley's  gun,  and  it  hit 
Ed  Smith  on  the  shin  so's  he  howled.  And 
now  they  was  without  weepons,  havin'  only 
their  hands,  and  the  bettin'  on  the  Texan 
was  risin',  for  it  seemed  hard  for  them  to 
beheve  a  man  from  Mizzoura  could  handle 
a  Texan  in  his  native  dust  if  they  did  weigh 
about  equal.  Nevertheless  I  took  all  Smith's 
bets,  for  I  had  faith  in  Ginger.  I  didn't  be- 
74 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

lieve  he  could  be  tired ;  and  now  it  was  three 
o'clock,  and  the  dust  stuck  to  'em,  and  they  was 
as  red  as  paint  and  as  an  Indian,  most  horrible 
to   see.    They   lay   mighty   quiet,    embracin' 
each   other  for  nigh  ten  minutes;  and  then 
Ginger  began  movin',  and  I  caught  his  eye, 
very  hopeful  too.     And  I  could  see  he  was 
goin'  for  some  curious  kind  of  a  holt,  quite 
beyond  me.     But    once  agin  he  got   on  his 
knees,  and  then  down  he  went  with  his  arm 
across    Keeley's    bull-neck,    and    he    choked 
him  till  he  was  somewhat  in  want  of  breath ; 
and  then  he  got  his  arm  right  into  the  back 
of  his  coat,  and  down  till  he  grabbed  the  waist- 
band of  his  pants,  so  that  Keeley's  head  was 
under  his  arm.     Then  he  took  a  kind  of  cross 
in-and-out  hold  of  his  legs,  and  he  rose  up 
with    Keeley    and    waddled    twenty    yards 
towards  the  calaboose  wdth  a  wild  hurricane 
of  yells   goin'  on.     Then  Keeley's  coat  split 
right  down,  and  Ginger  lost  his  holt  and  Keeley 
fell  on  his  knees.     Then   for  the  first   time 
Ginger  played  cunning.     You  see,  the  great 
scheme   was   to   get   the   other   man   to   the 
calaboose,  and  it  stands  to  reason  that  the  easiest 
75 


PAINTED  ROCK 

way  to  get  any  man  to  do  what  you  want  is  for 
him  to  want  it.  So  Ginger  gasped  a  bit,  and 
fell  back  towards  the  calaboose,  and  Keeley 
rose  up  and  rushed  him,  and  though  Ginger 
hit  him  he  grabbed  holt  again,  and  they  was 
within  five  yards  of  the  open  big  door.  And 
the  crowd  broke  out  of  its  barriers  right  then, 
and  there  was  a  rush  for  us,  and  we  yellin'  to 
keep  *em  back.  But  presently  they  settled 
down  solid,  leavin'  nothin'  but  a  straight  run- 
in  to  the  gaol,  and  in  the  clear  space  Ginger 
and  Keeley  tryin'  to  heave  each  other  off  their 
feet.  And  me  bein'  next  to  Ginger,  I  said, 
'  It's  now  or  never.  Ginger ; '  and  I  dessay  my 
words  got  home  to  him  in  the  riot,  for  now  he 
had  a  good  holt,  and  he  threw  Keeley  and 
fell  on  him  kerflummix  and  knocked  the 
wind  plumb  out  of  him,  till  the  under  dog  was 
like  a  squashed  peanut.  And  Ginger  grabbed 
him  quick  by  both  wrists  with  him  on  his  back, 
and  he  dragged  him  right  inside  the  calaboose 
yard  before  Keeley  knew  what  had  happened. 
I  tell  you  the  boys  yelled  till  I  thought  the 
roof  would  fly  off,  for  the  excitement  was 
tremenjus,   and   the   money   at   stake   highly 

76 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

considerable  for  so  small  a  community.     And 
now   Keeley   suddenly   began   to   take   more 
interest  in  the  matter  in  hand,  for  he  grabbed 
Ginger  by  the  ankle,  and  Ginger  went  down 
like  a  pithed  steer  and  shook  himself  up  pretty 
considerable.     But    there's    no    give    in    to 
Ginger,  and  the  rollin'  circus  recommenced  in 
the  yard,  each  man  bein'  determined  to  thump 
the  other  one's  cabeza  on  the  pavement  in 
order  to  introduce  more  simplicity  into  the 
tangled    proceedings    of    the    court.     And    I 
dessay,  though  you  are  a  tender-foot  here,  as 
I  understand  you've  travelled  some,  j^ou  may 
hev  noticed  that  there  must  be  an  end  to  any 
game,  and  that  in  a  fight  to  a  finish  it's  likely 
to  come  sudden  just  about  the  time  that  them 
without  real  experience  is  lookin'  for  a  draw. 
Now  the  cowboys — as  is  mostly  young  fools 
fitted  with  mesquite  leggin's,  a  gun  they  can't 
use,  and  conceit  that  nobody  else  can — was 
yellin', '  A  draw,  a  draw  ! '    But  I  knew  better, 
for  I  saw  Ginger's  eye  still  like  a  bumin'  match 
in  a  dark  night,  and  Keeley's  prophetic  of  sad 
failure,  like  a  man  with  one  blown-out  match 
and  a  seegar  unlighted  on  the  prairie  and  far 

n 


PAINTED  ROCK 

from  home,  and  I  knew  Ginger  was  goin'  to  be 
City  Marshal  just   as   sure  as   I  know   four 
aces  and  the  joker  from  a  bobtail  flush.     And 
the  scheme  bein*  to  knock   a  hard   skull  on 
a   harder   rock,  I    foresaw  that   the   collidin' 
cabeza  was  goin'   to  be  Keeley's,   and  all  I 
begged  of  Ginger  in  my  mind  was  jedgment 
not  to  fracture  it.    And  I  must  say  he  j edged 
it  to  a  nicety.     I  heard  the  crack,  and  I  heard 
Keeley  sigh,  and  then  he  lay  there  like  a  very 
peaceful  citizen  who   has  been  drinkin'  more 
than  he  can  carry.     And  Ginger  rose  up  and 
took  him  in  his  arms  as  if  he  was  a  little  child, 
and  carried  him  into  his  cell  and  laid  him  down 
like  as  if  he  was  Keeley's  mother.     He  came 
out  and  locked  the  cell  as  a  matter  of  form, 
and  the  rule  we  made,  and  then  unlocked  it 
and  said,  *  Doctor,  would  you  be  so  good  as 
to    investigate    the    damage   done,   which    I 
much  lament  though  unavoidable  ? '    And  with 
that  he  took  a  seat  on  a  bench,  and  the  doctor 
presently  reported  that  Keeley  would  have  no 
more  than  a  headache.     And  the  boys  cheered 
Ginger  for  Marshal,  and  Ginger  clinched  the 
popularity  he  had  justly  earned  in  a  community 
7S 


THE  RISE  OF  GINGER  GILLETT 

of  thorough  sports  by  borrowin'  the  hundred 
dollars  I  took  out  of  Ed  Smith's  sack,  and 
puttin'  it  in  as  his  contribution  to  a  collection 
for  the  loser  to  spend  in  his  trip  to  Fort  Worth. 
And  there  is  no  doubt  that  Keeley  enjoyed 
that  trip,  if  what  the  boys  from  Fort  Worth 
say  is  true,  as  I  believe.  But  the  next  day 
Ginger  was  made  Marshal,  and  he's  a  good  one, 
as  you  know  yourself  from  what  you  saw  of 
him  just  now  in  that  little  difficulty  with 
young  Gedge." 

"  Did  he  pay  back  that  hundred  dollars,  Mr. 
Pillsbury  ?  "  I  asked  incautiously. 

Pillsbury  looked  at  me. 

"  He'll  pay  it  back  when  I  ask  for  it,"  said 
the  gambler.  He  added,  with  apparent 
inconsequence — 

"  The  City  Marshal  in  a  city  Hke  Painted 
Rock  is  the  man  that  keeps  the  balance 
between  them  as  holds  to  the  past  and  them  as 
considers  trade  is  ever5d:hing.  With  them  I 
do  not  agree." 


79 


IV 

THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

There  were  many  people  who  said  that  Tom 
Willett  was  a  man  of  no  account ;  that  he 
was  a  worm,  and  a  legal  book- worm  at  that — 
a  mere  husk,  a  straw,  a  student,  a  born  dweller 
in  dusty  caves  in  the  Temple — a  creature  of 
pleas  and  precedents  and  cases,  an  admirer, 
in  his  very  marrow,  of  the  Dead  Sea  fruit  of 
the  law. 

And  yet — and  yet  there  was  something  in 
Willett  that  made  it  worth  while  to  abuse 
him,  worth  while  to  sharpen  one's  tongue  on 
him,  and  worth  while  to  dig  knives  into  him. 
What  it  was  nobody  knew  but  myself,  and  I 
always  tried  in  vain  to  make  other  folks  see 
that  underneath  the  leather  and  the  vellum 
and  the  paper  burnt  a  fiery  spark  that  made 
Tom  a  man.  Even  in  law-books  there  is  one 
F  8i 


PAINTED  ROCK 

spark  that  means,  however  translated  and 
transmuted,  primaeval  force.  I  never  see  a 
judge  but  I  see  underneath  him  palaeolithic 
man  with  a  stone-axe  in  his  claw,  working 
out  revenges,  and  scattering  brains  with  a 
blow.  Even  ermine  is  the  skin  of  a  wild 
beast. 

I  had  the  clue  to  Tom,  for  I  knew  his  brother, 
and  the  others  didn't.  Jack  Willett  was  as 
like  Tom  as  a  fresh  pea  is  to  a  dried  one,  and 
sometimes  it  seemed  to  me  that  if  Thomas 
Willett  had  had  his  brother's  life  it  would 
have  been  difficult  to  know  them  apart. 
And  Jack  was  curiously  lawless  —  he  could 
not  stay  in  England  a  month  without  danger. 
As  he  said,  with  a  quick  glitter  in  his  eye — 
people  don't  jostle  one  in  Texas  unless  they're 
looking  for  death,  and  can  face  it  smiling. 

And  one  day  he  said  :  "  Tom  is  as  bad  as 
myself  underneath.    Only  he  doesn't  know  it." 

They  were  always  together  when  Jack  was 
in  England,  for  Tom  looked  after  him.  With 
his  arm  locked  in  his  brother's,  he  bade  him 
remember  that  Law  and  Order  were  most 
respectable  creatures,  and  formidable.  And 
82 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

when  I  called  him  a  dusty  legal  imp,  he 
smiled  and  told  Jack  that  he  had  hopes  of 
me.  I  showed  signs  of  becoming  a  good 
citizen. 

And  then  Jack  went  off  to  Texas  again, 
just  in  time  to  prevent  him  breaking  out 
and  assaulting  a  policeman.  Tom  and  I 
saw  him  off  at  Euston,  and  Tom's  eyes  were 
as  moist  as  dewy  mom  when  the  train  left 
the  platform.     He  loved  his  brother  dearly. 

"  But  all  the  same  it's  a  relief  for  him  to 
go,  and  a  relief  for  me,"  said  Tom.  "  His 
notions  are  so  extraordinary.  He  never  seems 
to  understand  that  a  man  in  no  circum- 
stances is  justified  in  taking  the  law  into  his 
own  hands." 

"  He  lives  mostly  where  the  justification 
lies  in  the  necessity,"  I  said  sententiously. 

"  And  thereby  makes  things  worse,"  said 
Tom.  "  The  steady  appeal  to  law  even  where 
law  is  weak  increases  its  authority." 

"  I  believe  you'd  stand  to  be  shot  to  give 
the  law  a  good  case,"  I  said  carelessly. 
"  What's  the  use  of  law  without  a  sanction  ? 
And  in  parts  of   the  West  every  man  is  his 

83 


PAINTED  ROCK 

own  law-giver.    You  get  there  down  to  first 
principles/' 

"  One  can't  admit  first  principles  in  a 
civilised  society,"  said  Tom. 

"  Exactly  so,  my  boy." 

He  looked  at  me.  "  You  mean  they  are 
not  civilised  there  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

"  They  have  judges  and  a  judicial  system. 
Jack  told  me  so." 

He  made  me  smile,  and  I  left  him  con- 
vinced that  I  had  no  answer.  But  what  do 
judges  and  a  judicial  system  matter  when 
they  don't  work  ?  Out  in  the  borderlands 
tame  justice  walks  with  so  slow  a  foot  that 
only  dead  men  can't  escape.  But  wild 
justice  grows  redly  and  sometimes  rankly. 
He  was  to  know  it.     He  knew  it  very  soon. 

It  was  six  months  before  I  saw  him  again, 
and  he  came  across  me  as  I  was  lunching  in 
a  big  West  End  restaurant. 

"  You're  the  very  man  I  wanted  to  see," 
said  Tom. 

There  was  something  strange  about  him, 
and   the  strangeness  was  not   the  fact  that 

84 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

he  was  in  mourning.  I  looked  at  him 
curiously,  but  said  nothing.  He  sat  down  by 
my  side  and  put  a  dusty  legal  bag  at  his  feet. 

"  Have  you  heard  about  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I've  heard  nothing." 

"  Jack's  dead  !  " 

He  spoke  very  quietly,  but  I  could  see 
he  was  badly  hurt.  Yet  that  was  not  the 
difference  in  him. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,"  I  said.  "  How  did  it 
happen  ?  " 

''  He    was    killed— murdered,"    said    Tom 

steadily. 

"  And  the  murderer  ?  " 

"  He's  walking  about,"  said  Tom. 

I  saw  where  the  difference  lay.  He  was 
younger,  in  spite  of  the  shock.  And— well- 
there  was  something  else.  I  eyed  him 
curiously,  and  he  looked  at  me  steadily. 
There  was  nothing  soft  about  his  eyes 
now. 

"  I  never  saw  you  look  so  like  him,"  I 
said.  I  had  hit  it  that  time— "  plumb- 
centre  "  as  they  say  out  West. 

"  I  got  a  letter  from  a  chum  of  his,"  said 
85 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Tom,  "  and  I  wanted  to  see  you.     You  under- 
stand the  country  there." 

He  pulled  out  his  pocket-book,  and  ex- 
tracted  a  dirty  half-page  of  lined  paper, 
which  was  dated  two  months  earlier  from 
Painted  Rock  in  Texas.  I  read  it  with 
difficulty,  for  it  might  have  been  written 
back-handed   with   a  skewer.     It  ran  thus — 

"  Sir, — This  is  to  inform  you  that  my  late 
partner,  your  brother  Jack  Willett,  was  shot 
and  killed  a  month  back  on  Cow  Creek  by 
Colonel  Briggs,  mostly  known  as  Cow  Creek 
Briggs.  They  was  alone  when  the  difficulty 
occurred  and  Briggs  is  a  fairly  popular  man 
and  says  your  brother  pulled  on  him  first. 
Owin  to  this  and  my  havin  no  right  hand 
to  speak  of  he's  still  on  earth.  But  Briggs 
lies  for  if  Jack  had  pulled  on  him  first  Briggs 
would  have  been  dead,  for  he  was  very  quick 
with  his  gun  for  an  Englishman.  And  Briggs 
had  his  knife  into  him  from  the  time  Jack 
first  struck  the  Rock — over  a  row  they  had 
about  the  morrils  of  the  British  Royal  Family, 
and  also  over  a  claim  in  the  California  moun- 
86 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

tains  which  was  no  good  but  led  to  trubble. 
I  have  taken  holt  of  everything  belongin  to 
Jack  and  have  realised  what  I  could  and 
will  pay  it  to  you  on  demand,  being  about  a 
thousand  dollars  more  or  less,  besides  his 
share  in  some  steers  which  I'm  holdin  and 
will  realise  a  deal  more  if  I'm  lucky.— Yours 
truly,  Silas  Northrop. 

"  N.B. — I'm  very  sorry  for  your  brother's 
death.  He  w^as  a  fine  and  clever  boy,  and 
I  liked  him.  And  now  I  can't  shoot  worth  a 
cent  owin  to  my  havin  no  right  hand  to 
speak  of. 

"  N.B. — It  was  dynamite  as  wrecked  my 
shoot  in. 

"  N.B. — A  letter  to  the  Arizona  House 
will  always  find  me.— Yours  truly,       S.  N." 

The  restaurant  roared  about  us,  and  outside 
London's  organic  drone  bore  the  burden  of 
the  music.  But  for  me  the  w^alls  fell  down 
and  London  died,  and  I  saw  the  vast  expanse 
of  the  burnt  and  Texan  plateau,  the  grey- 
brown  brush,  the  thin  grass,  the  gaunt 
87 


PAINTED  ROCK 

mesquite,  the  long -horned  steers  and  the 
prairie  ponies.  Then  I  saw  the  CaHfornian 
mountains  by  Flagstaff  shining  with  winter 
snow,  and  further  still  the  Colorado  River 
spread  out  glittering  where  it  came  through 
from  the  Grand  Canon.  I  saw  adobe  Mexican 
townships  and  dark  Mexicans  in  silver - 
braided  hats  ;  and  cowboys  loping  into  town 
to  paint  the  place  and  themselves  red  as 
blood,  and  such  a  man  as  Silas  Northrop, 
with  one  lonely  finger  on  a  scarred  stump, 
and  such  another  as  "  Cow  Creek  Briggs," 
a  Colonel  of  swift  Western  promotion,  wdth 
his  "gun"  in  his  hand.  And  I  saw  Jack  too, 
and  sighed. 

I  lifted  my  eyes  and  started,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  though  the  face  I  looked  at  was 
the  face  of  the  lawyer,  the  eyes  I  saw  were 
the  eyes  of  the  man  who  fell  by  the  alkaline 
waters  of  Cow  Creek. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?  "  said  Tom. 

But  Jack's  eyes  knew. 

It's  a  strange  thing  how  little  one  knows 
of  oneself  in  civilisation.  I  meet  civilised 
and    peaceable    citizens   everj^    day   who    are 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

capable  of  killing  -an  enemy  under  the  open 
sky,  and  of  sleeping  soundly  after  his  death, 
who  yet  denounce  the  least  infraction  of  the 
meanest  rule  that  ever  masqueraded  as  law. 
It  is  fine  to  sit  with  a  man  who  might  have 
been  a  desperado  if  he  had  been  born  where 
the  sun  shines,  and  to  hear  him  talk  so  peaceably 
that  one  might  believe  he  was  meant  for  a 
wet-nurse,  and  only  missed  his  destiny  by 
being  changed  at  birth.  And  here  was  Tom 
Willett  asking  what  he  was  to  do. 

"  When  do  you  start  ?  "  I  asked. 

In  another  sense  he  started  then.  "  W^y — 
what  ?  " 

"  When  do  you  sail  ?  " 

"  I  want  your  advice.  You  know  these 
places ;  I  want  to  bring  this  man  to 
justice." 

I  told  him  he  couldn't  do  it.  There  was 
no  e\adence. 

"  He  killed  Jack  and  owns  to  it." 

"  But  he  says  Jack  pulled  on  him— that  is, 
got  his  six-shooter  out." 

"  I  don't  believe  it." 

I  patted  his  shoulder.  "  Oh  yes,  you  do. 
89 


PAINTED  ROCK 

He  might  have  done,  at  any  rate.  And  if 
he  did " 

"  But  if  this  Colonel  has  a  bad  character  ?  " 

"  Doesn't  your  correspondent  say  he's 
popular  ?  You  can't  touch  him  legally.  It's 
too  late.  In  Texas  this  is  ancient  history 
by  now.  And  if  you  go  out  and  let  folks 
know  who  you  are,  he'll  lay  for  you  and  blow 
a  hole  through  you." 

"  I  want  him  hanged." 

"  You'll  have  to  hang  him  yourself,  then." 

He  picked  up  his  law-bag. 

"  Have  you  given  it  up  ?  Or  when  do 
you  sail  ?  " 

He  sailed  a  week  later,  and  two  months 
afterwards  I  got  a  letter  from  Painted  Rock, 
and  reading  underneath  the  words  I  seemed 
to  see  something  that  the  lawyer  did  not 
know  he  wrote.  He  was  set  in  his  mind 
and  curiously  cheerful.  He  looked  upon  his 
enterprise  as  a  legal  job,  and  meant  to  carry 
it  through  as  if  some  client  had  given  him 
the  task.  I  had  looked  for  some  discontent 
at  Texas  and  its  conditions.  He  showed 
none ;  he  never  even  growled  at  the  sand 
90 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

and  alkali ;  he  related  small  and  painful 
experiences  with  prickly  pear  in  the  spirit 
of  no  tender-foot. 

"  Now  I  know  what  you  meant  when  you 
said  that  there  were  more  vten  in  the  West 
than  in  any  place  you  ever  '  struck.'  " 

He  wrote  *  struck/  for  he  never  used  slang 
in  England.  But  I  noticed  that  he  said 
that  Silas  Northrop  was  clear  grit  all  through 
without  any  inverted  commas.  Northrop  and 
he  were  working  together,  and  in  order  not 
to  alarm  Colonel  Briggs,  "  Willett  isn't  my 
name  just  now.  It's  Thompson.  Write  to 
me,  care  of  Silas  Northrop,  Arizona  House." 

His  letter  gave  me  a  touch  of  "'  Western 
fever."  If  I  hadn't  been  hobbled  and 
picketed  by  circumstances  I  would  have  come 
out  to  him  and  taken  a  hand  in  the  deal. 
For  I  liked  Jack  very  much.  He  was  a 
"  clever "  boy.  And  in  the  vernacular  of 
the  United  States  "  clever  "  means  "  kindly." 

Silas  Northrop' s  new  partner  wrote  to  me 

almost  every  week,  and  I  could  see  the  scales 

of  civilisation  dropping  away  from  him.    He 

soon   came   to   the   conclusion   that   the   law 

91 


PAINTED  ROCK 

as  he  understood  it  was  a  kind  of  plant  that 
did  not  flourish  in  the  sun-dried  spaces  of 
Texas  and  the  West.  It  tickled  me  fairly  to 
death  when  he  called  a  person  learned  in  the 
law  "  a  law-sharp  "  for  the  first  time,  even 
though  he  put  it  in  "  quotes,"  and  added 
that  Silas  said,  "  My  son,  I'd  never  have 
taken  you  for  a  law-sharp." 

"  I'm  in  great  doubt  as  to  what  I  can  do," 
said  the  new  man  underneath  Tom  Willett, 
"  for  the  law  can't  be  made  to  work  here. 
I  took  the  advice  of  a  notary  in  Painted 
Rock  on  an  imaginary  case,  as  I  didn't  care 
to  give  anyone  a  chance  to  put  this  Cow 
Creek  ruffian  up  to  my  being  on  his  trail, 
and  he  was  very  unsatisfactory.  I'm  thinking 
about  what  you  used  to  say  of  the  law. 
There  seems  something  in  it  here.  I  used  to 
think  you  talked  rot  when  you  came  to 
me  in  the  City.  Do  you  remember  saying 
that  the  seeds  of  law  grew  everywhere,  but 
that  the  Attorney-General  himself  wouldn't 
recognise  the  relationship  between  his  fine 
conservatory  products  and  the  seedlings  on  the 
prairie  ?  There's  a  lot  to  this  notion  of  yours." 
92 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

The  man  was  thinking  and  growing.  What 
an  infinite  pleasure  a  foolish  double  dahlia 
must  take  in  reverting  to  its  simple  primitive 
type  in  a  wild,  neglected  garden.  My  double 
and  triple  petalled  Willett  was  going  back 
to  t3rpe  very  fast.  I  hankered  frightfully 
to  see  the  working  out  of  the  drama,  for  I 
knew  matters  must  be  getting  unhealthy 
for  Colonel  Briggs.  I  wrote  to  Tom  a  little 
nervously.     I  said — 

"  Go  slow,  my  son.  I  see  the  ferment 
working  in  you.  By  the  time  Silas  (give 
him  a  shake  for  me)  by  the  time  Silas  and 
the  clear  atmosphere  of  the  prairie  have 
worked  you  clear  of  your  legal  trappings, 
you'll  be  on  the  trail  with  a  gun.  Don't 
hurry,  learn  to  shoot,  and  for  choice  take 
a  shot-gun  ;  it  requires  an  education  to  use 
what  you  have  now  learnt  to  call  '  a  gun.' 
If  you  are  sure  that  your  friend  of  '  Cow 
Creek  '  was  in  the  wrong — and  it  should  be 
easy  to  find  out — kill  him  first  and  explain 
why  afterwards.  And  if  he  is  popular,  ex- 
plain it  by  a  wire  when  you  are  well  in  the 
offing." 

93 


PAINTED  ROCK 

A  letter  from  him  crossed  this  salutary 
advice  of  mine.  Tom  Willett  said  the  law 
was  no  good  in  Texas  !  He  seemed  sorrowful 
about  it.  There  was  no  doubt  that  Briggs 
ought  to  be  hanged.  That  was  as  plain  as 
anything  could  be.  But  Briggs  had  friends, 
and  was  very  quick  with  a  pistol.  And  he 
had  money. 

;  "  You  can't  hang  a  man  with  money  in 
the  West,"  said  Willett.  "  I  seem  reduced 
to  first  principles.  And  first  principles  here 
are  made  of  lead  and  powder  and  steel.  I 
suppose  they're  made  like  that  in  most 
places." 

I  often  think  I  have  no  luck  to  speak  of, 
but  I  have  to  own  that  fate  treated  me  with 
extraordinary  indulgence  the  very  day  after 
I  got  this  letter.  A  man  with  some  mining 
interests  in  Mexico  asked  me  if  I  would  under- 
take to  go  out  there  for  him  and  make  a  few 
investigations  into  the  ways  of  his  English 
manager.  As  the  money  was  sufficient  I 
closed  with  him  right  off,  pulled  up  my  picket 
pins,  and  started  for  Liverpool  that  night. 
I  cabled  to  Willett,  "  Don't  hurry ;  Fm  coming." 
94 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

You  see,  I  liked  Jack  Willett  and  I  was  inter- 
ested in  the  game,  and  the  Western  fever 
had  been  burning  up  my  vitals  for  three 
years.  I  could  take  Texas  on  my  way, 
,  There  is  no  drug  in  the  pharmacopoeia 
which  has  any  effect  upon  that  disease  of 
desire.  The  only  thing  is  to  give  way  and 
get  the  thing  over,  or  to  get  old  and  die. 

To  be  in  London,  that  whirlpool,  that 
Cloaca  Maxima  of  mankind,  that  main  drain 
of  civilisation,  and  then  to  land  suddenly 
in  the  burning  sun  of  a  late  Texan  spring,  is 
to  leap  from  darkness  into  light.  So  might 
a  sad  imp  sit  inside  a  camera  and  weep  till 
fate  squeezes  the  ball  and  lets  the  sunlight 
in.  For  an  hour,  a  day,  even  a  week  I  sat 
exposed,  I  the  imp  and  the  plate,  and  there 
are  pictures  printed  on  me,  some  of  them  so 
over-exposed  that  they  have  run  into  blackness. 
But  that  quick  week  was  a  long  film  ;  its 
hours  biographic,  swift,  fluctuating,  jerky. 

I   saw   Silas   Northrop   before  I   met   Tom 

Willett,    and    found    him    less    than    I    had 

imagined  him  and  more.     He  was  thin  and 

little,  hard  as  a  keg  of  nails,  blue-eyed  and 

95 


PAINTED  ROCK 

ruddy-bearded.  Some  called  him  Ginger. 
Tom  did  for  one.  His  right  hand  was  a 
wreck,  a  jagged,  fired  stump  ;  his  left  was 
strong  as  steel.  In  his  eyes  was  the  Western 
look  ;  those  who  have  seen  it  know  it.  Those 
who  haven't  seen  it  have  missed  something 
that  makes  for  human  dignity.  He  spoke 
little. 

''  Tom  Willett  has  told  you  that  I  was 
coming  ?  "  I  asked. 

Northrop  nodded.  "  He  said  he  had  a  cable 
from  you." 

He  eyed  me  with  that  clear  and  calm  aspect 
of  curiosity  which  never  offends.  He  was 
''  sizing  me  up." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  take  a  hand,  sir  ?  " 

He  accentuated  the  "  sir  "  heavily,  marking 
nothing  thereby  but  a  double  interrogation.  I 
shook  my  head. 

"  It's  not  my  line.  But  I  reckoned  on 
hearing  how  things  stood." 

We  were  standing  outside  the  hotel  on  the 

wooden  side-walk  that  was  full  of  traps  for  the 

"  full "  and  the  unwary.     The  road  was  yellow 

dust ;  a  yellow  mongrel  lay  in  the  middle  of  the 

96 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

track  ;  two  cow-ponies  were  hitched  to  a  rail ; 
stray  citizens  went  by  in  their  shirt-sleeves, 
some  dressed  in  the  black  that  civilisation  puts 
on  as  mourning  for  primitive  colours.  I  saw 
ancient  types  that  I  had  known  long  years 
before.     I  was  in  a  dream. 

And  suddenly  I  saw  a  ghost. 

That  is  it  —  I  saw  a  ghost ;  it  was  the 
man  beneath  Tom  Willett,  and  Northrop  said 
casually,  without  a  glance  at  me — 

"  My  new  partner — Thompson  !  " 

I  might  have  been  shaking  hands  with  Jack 
Willett,  with  the  man  that  Briggs  had  "  thrown 
lead  "  at  ! 

"  Fm  glad — glad  to  see  you,"  said  Tom  ; 
"  what's  brought  you,  and  what's  wrong  ?  " 

For  a  moment  I  really  couldn't  speak ;  the 
likeness  was  so  extraordinary,  so  almost 
appalling.  The  new  man  was  brown  as  a 
berry  ;  his  eyes  were  clear  ;  the  look  of  the  West 
had  come  there  more  swiftly  than  I  had  ever 
seen  it  come.  And  it  is  to  be  remembered 
that  it  only  comes  to  men  ;  cowards  don't  get 
it,  and  those  whose  souls  are  soaked  in  per- 
centages don't  raise  it.  It  is  the  gift  of  the 
G  97 


PAINTED  ROCK 

wild  life  to  such  as  have  not  been  destroyed 
utterly  by  the  baser  uses  of  the  life  in  towns. 

I  gasped,  and  then  held  out  my  hand.  Then 
I  had  to  laugh. 

"  You  lawyer,"  I  said,  "  you  legal  imp,  you 
dusty  creature  of  calf-bound,  hide-bound 
books,  you  haunter  of  courts,  you  case  of 
precedents,  you  jargon-loving  solicitor,  where 
did  you  dig  yourself  up  ?  '* 

And  Tom  looked  at  me  oddly.  His  very 
smile  was  Jack's. 

"  Haven't  you  seen  this  ?  "  I  asked  Northrop. 

"  Seen  what,  partner  ?  " 

"  Has  Briggs  seen  him  ?  " 

They  both  said,  "No." 

"  But  I've  seen  him,"  said  Tom. 

*'  Haven't  you  seen,  Mr.  Northrop,  that 
our  friend  Thompson  is  too  like  your  late 
partner  ?  " 

But  the  man  beneath  had  come  out  too 
slowly  under  Northrop's  eye  for  him  to  see  it 
as  I  did. 

"  If  Briggs  sees  him,  he'll  know,"  I  said. 
"  Let's  walk  where  we  can  speak  freely." 

We  went  down  the  middle  of  the  street, 

98 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

westward  to  the  open  prairie.  For  the  little 
hotel  was  on  the  borders  of  the  town. 

"  Is  anything  laid  up  for  Briggs  ?  "  I  asked. 

Tom  didn't  answer,  but  he  was  playing  with 
something  which  I  knew  would  fit  a  forty-four 
Smith  and  Wesson. 

"  Thompson  is  going  to  kill  him  first  chance," 
said  Northrop  quietly. 

"  What  about  the  law  ?  "  I  asked,  a  little 
satirically,  and  Tom  snapped  his  fingers. 

"  That  for  the  law  !  " 

He  looked  at  me  with  an  almost  shamefaced 
smile. 

"  First  principles,  old  man,"  he  said.  "  But 
I  don't  want  you  in  it.  Northrop  and  I  are 
playing  this  game." 

I  own  I  wanted  to  see  the  end  of  it ;  I  would 
have  attended  Colonel  Briggs's  funeral  with 
a  deal  of  quiet  satisfaction. 

"  I'm  not  married  and  you  are,'*  said  Tom. 
"  This  is  not  your  game.  Go  on  to  Mexico  ; 
when  you  come  back  we  may  have  it  finished. 
I've  a  plot  laid  to  get  Briggs  off  his  ranch  into 
the  Rock  !  " 

He  spoke  with  a  fine  calm.  It  was  quite  a 
99 


PAINTED  ROCK 

pleasure  to  hear  him,  though  there  are  folks 
who  cannot  understand  any  man  doing  his 
own  law  work  if  there  is  no  one  to  do  it  for 
him.  I've  even  heard  men  state  that  it  is 
wrong  to  kill  anyone  except  in  battle,  or 
without  using  the  judge  and  an  executioner. 
I  have  seen  some  get  so  excited  about  this 
that  I  have  feared  for  my  own  life  during  the 
argument.  There  is  considerable  human 
nature  yet  extant.  There  was  a  powerful 
amount  of  it  in  Thomas  Willett  of  the  firm  of 
Willett  &  Gray  (now  Gray  &  Son)  in  London 
Town. 

I  stayed  that  night  in  a  rather  better  hotel 
than  the  Arizona  House,  for  some  years 
in  England  had  made  me  over  particular  as 
to  cleanliness  and  certain  small  details  which 
did  not  trouble  Northrop.  As  to  Tom,  he 
would  have  laid  out  on  the  prairie  for  six 
months  without  blankets  to  get  at  Briggs. 
He  was  a  man  of  one  idea  by  now.  I  re- 
membered the  same  trait  in  Jack.  He  was 
accustomed  to  do  one  thing  at  a  time,  and 
do  it  thoroughly.  His  nature  was  evidence 
to  me  that  Briggs  had  taken  him  at  an  ad- 

100 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

vantage.  Now  Tom  was  Jack,  and  had  been 
warned. 

But  there  was  no  one  to  warn  Briggs. 

I  stayed  four  days  in  the  Rock,  and  saw 
my  two  friends  every  now  and  again.  Tom 
would  not  allow  me  to  come  and  see  him 
too  often. 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  be  in  this  trouble,'* 
he  said.  He  was  so  hard  and  firm  about 
it,  and  so  able  to  take  care  of  himself,  that  I 
did  just  as  he  wanted.  I  should  have  done 
so  with  Jack  when  he  and  I  were  in  Texas 
together. 

And  yet,  after  all,  I  didn't  miss  the  tragedy, 
though  I  came  in  time  for  it  by  accident. 

It  was  just  about  noon  on  the  fourth  day 
since  I  landed  in  the  town  that  the  affair 
came  off.  As  I  had  not  seen  either  Northrop 
or  Thompson  for  twenty-four  hours  (I  had 
been  out  of  town  with  some  old  friends)  I 
walked  down  for  a  bit  of  a  palaver,  and  found 
both  of  them  standing  under  the  verandah 
over  the  rotten  side -walk  of  their  old 
shack. 

*'  You    gtij'    said    Tom    coolly,    when    I 

lOI 


PAINTED  ROCK 

walked  up  alongside  and  slapped  his  shoulder. 
"  Get,  quick;  there's  going  to  be  trouble." 

I  wanted  to  go,  and  yet  I  didn't.  I  did 
not  hanker  to  be  killed  or  to  get  in  the  cala- 
boose. After  all,  it  wasn't  my  affair.  Jack 
had  been  my  partner  years  ago,  but  Northrop 
was  in  that  position  when  he  had  been  killed. 
And  here  was  Tom.  Still  I  had  to  stay  and 
see  the  thing  out,  and  I  said — 

"  Go  to  thunder,  old  man  !  " 

And  I  stepped  back  against  the  wall  and 
rolled  a  cigarette.  There  were  three  other 
men  outside  the  hotel  besides  Silas  and  Tom. 
I  had  never  seen  any  of  them,  but  I  could 
pick  them  out  of  a  thousand  now.  I  noticed 
a  shot-gun  leaning  against  the  little  rail  on  the 
edge  of  the  side-walk.  But  there  was  no 
Briggs  in  sight.  Tom  was  in  his  shirt-sleeves, 
and  wore  a  big  cow-hat  rather  over  his  eyes. 
He  had  no  weapon  on  him,  pistols  in  sight 
not  being  allowed  in  town  at  that  date.  Just 
at  the  end  of  the  verandah  there  was  a  very 
good  horse  standing  ready  saddled.  There 
was  a  coat  strapped  lightly  to  the  horn  of 
the  saddle.     It  was  a  kind  of  blue-grey  cloth, 

102 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

and  I  remembered  that  Tom  often  wore  one 
of  that  colour. 

I  stepped  up  to  Tom  again.  "  So  you've 
learnt  to  ride  ?  " 

His  eyes  snapped  rather  nervously.  "  You 
still  here  ?     Oh  yes,  I  can  ride — some  !  " 

And  I  saw  a  httle  dust  fly  round  the  corner 
of  the  next  street.  The  wind  was  pretty  strong 
from  the  south-east.  A  man  came  following 
the  dust.  He  was  riding  a  good  horse,  and 
had  the  easy  seat  of  the  old  frontiersman  ;  one 
could  see  that  though  he  came  at  a  walk.  He 
wore  a  loose  jacket  and  a  cow-hat  the  fellow 
of  the  one  Tom  had,  though  there  were  more 
leather  and  silver  trappings  on  it  than  Tom's 
had.  Indeed,  to  most  men's  taste  it  was  too 
Mexican. 

Now,  this  was  Briggs,  and  I  knew  it.  How 
I  knew  it  I  can't  quite  say.  Perhaps  a  certain 
rigid  set  of  Tom's  shoulders  told  me  so.  At 
any  rate  I  knew  it,  and  though  I  wasn't  in  the 
game  I  saw  my  own  pistol  w^as  ready  to  pull. 
When  shooting  begins  there  is  never  any 
knowing  when  it  will  end.  And  I  was  wonder- 
ing how  it  would  begin.  I  felt  sure  that  Tom 
103 


PAINTED  ROCK 

wouldn't  shoot  him  at  sight  and  without  a 
word,  and  yet  I  feared  that  if  he  spoke  Briggs 
would  get  his  work  in  first. 

There  was  some  stress  in  waiting,  and  my 
nerves  set  themselves  like  strained  wire.  It 
was  odd  to  hear  the  three  men  I  didn't  know 
gassing  away  to  themselves,  quite  unconscious 
that  lead  might  be  flying  in  a  moment.  They 
turned  and  saw  Briggs  coming. 

"  That's  a  daisy  of  a  horse  the  old  chap's 
got,"  said  one.  I  noted  that  one  man  said 
"  cayuse,"  and  I  thereby  judged  he'd  been  in 
British  Columbia. 

I  saw  Briggs  now  plainly.  He  looked  as  if 
he  was  one  of  those  hard  old-timers  who  can 
stand  up  to  a  bar  and  keep  a  bar-tender  busy. 
He  had  a  red  face  and  a  hard  eye  touched  with 
blood.  It  is  wonderful  how  these  drinkers 
can  last,  nerve  and  all,  if  they  live  on  horse- 
back all  the  time  they  are  not  soaking.  He 
looked  by  no  means  the  man  to  scare.  I 
owned  that,  and  then  all  of  a  sudden  I  knew 
he  would  be  scared.  I  laughed,  and  Tom 
turned.  There  was  a  look  in  his  eye  such  as 
might  have  been  in  Jack's  when  he  saw  that 
104 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

Briggs  had  the  dead-wood  on  him  and  meant 

killing. 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  scared  right  enough,"  I  said. 

And  the  Colonel  rode  up  alongside  the 
verandah  coolly  enough,  though  it  was  so  hot. 

"  Good-day,  gentlemen,"  he  said.  "  Is  Mr. 
Hopkins  in  ?  " 

He  ran  his  eye  over  all  of  us,  and  I 
remembered  that  he  didn't  know  Northrop. 

It  was  Tom  who  answered.  "  I  guess  he's 
out.  Colonel,"  said  Tom.  But  it  was  his 
brother's  voice  that  Briggs  heard  and  his 
brother's  eye  that  Briggs  saw,  and  the  blood 
ran  out  of  his  face  and  his  jaw  fell.  Things  and 
thoughts  moved  swiftly  enough,  but  for  me 
the  intense  moment  was  magnificently  spacious 
— a  thousandth  part  of  a  second  held  con- 
centrated drama.  I  saw  not  Tom,  but  the  dead 
man  ;  I  heard  him  speak. 

"  I  guess  he's  out,  Colonel !  " 

The  words  came  slowly,  and  the  men  who 
were  not  in  the  game  felt  that  there  was  a 
game.  They  had  lived  where  life  is  living ; 
where  the  instant  may  mean  death,  where 
comedy  laughs  tragically ;  where  tragedy 
105 


PAINTED  ROCK 

sometimes  paints  her  royal  face  and  fools  in 
sawdust  and  a  ring. 

Here  was  tragedy  imminent  and  instant. 
This  was  a  resurrection.  I  read  an  awful  script 
on  Briggs's  face  ;  strange  writing  and  reminis- 
cence of  a  bloody  day  and  a  bloody  mind.  Fear 
grew  there  that  was  half  supernatural ;  and 
again  the  fear  which  was  recognition  of  righteous 
revenge.  Was  the  man  dead  ?  There  never 
was  such  likeness.  He  moved  his  right 
hand.  It  went  swiftly,  and  yet  slowly.  I 
nearly  called  out  to  Tom,  and  then  remembered 
that  if  I  drew  his  attention  I  might  be  led 
to  shoot.  Or  I  might  have  to.  And  I 
remembered  England. 

Northrop  was  as  quiet  as  a  carved  man. 
But  his  eye  was  on  the  Colonel. 

And  once  more  I  understood.  This  was  a 
game,  a  legitimate  game  too.  For  Northrop 
spoke. 

"  Look  out,  Jack  !  " 

But  for  that  last  word  I  think  Briggs  might 

have  got  the  first  word  after  all.     He  had  his 

"  gun  "  out,  but  not  so  quickly  as  he  would 

have  done,  as  he  might  have  had  it.     As  the 

io6 


THE  MAN  UNDERNEATH 

sun  touched  the  bright  octagonal  barrel  I  saw 
the  dead  man's  brother  lift  his  shot-gun,  and 
the  next  moment  a  full  charge  of  shot  hit  the 
murderer  under  his  left  breast  and  lifted  him 
down  from  the  saddle.  The  horse  wheeled 
round  and  galloped  as  his  rider  fell  clear  of  him 
into  the  piled  soft  dust  of  the  beaten  road. 
And  Tom  stood  with  the  barrel  smoking  and 
with  his  face  as  hard  as  the  face  of  Justice 
throned  upon  immemorial  law. 

And  Northrop  cried  out  :  "  You  all  saw  him 
pull  his  gun  on  my  partner  ?  " 

And  I  said  :  "  I  saw  it." 

The  other  men  said  they  saw  it  too. 

But  Northrop  said  in  a  low  voice  to  Tom, 
"  You  won't  need  the  horse.  We'll  walk  down 
with  you  to  the  City  Marshal's." 

And  I  helped  to  carry  the  Colonel's  body 
in  out  of  the  sun. 


107 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

It  was  hot,  "  mighty  hot,"  in  Painted  Rock, 
that  city  of  the  north-west  Texas  plateau, 
and  folks  said  it  was  going  to  be  warmer  yet. 
There  had  been  a  tornado  which  struck  one 
end  of  the  "  City  "  and  destroyed  a  dozen 
houses ;  the  tornado  had  been  followed  the 
week  after  by  a  sand-storm  which  made 
everything  gritty  but  an  egg,  and  the  sand- 
storm had  been  succeeded  by  a  thunder- 
storm which  killed  a  good  many  steers  the 
other  side  of  the  Wolf  Creek.  As  a  result  of 
this  weather  the  summer  may  be  said  to  have 
commenced,  and  the  heat  led  to  a  "  difficulty  " 
on  Main  Street  which  ended  in  the  death  of 
an  unconsidered  stranger  at  the  hands  of  a 
prominent  citizen  and  hardware  merchant. 
These  things  will  happen  in  hot  weather  in 
109 


PAINTED  ROCK 

places  where  self-defence  is  so  close  to  its 
opposite  that  it  takes  some  trouble  to  get  the 
edge  of  a  verdict  between  the  two.  Painted 
Rock  did  not  believe  very  much  in  the  law. 
And  when  after  all  the  storms  word  came  over 
the  wire  from  Fort  Worth  that  Tom  Crowle's 
appeal  against  his  former  partner  George 
Bailey  had  been  dismissed,  with  costs  on 
appeal,  there  were  some  who  shook  their  heads. 

"  There'll  be  trouble  sure,"  said  Major 
Simpson,  late  a  corporal  in  the  Confederate 
Army ;  "  there'll  be  trouble  sartin.  Crowle's 
a  mad  steer,  and  it's  God's  wonder,  not  to  say 
a  Bible  and  uncontradicted  merracle,  that  he 
hasn't  been  disposed  of  long  ago  in  a  nice 
lonesome  cemetery.  He  makes  a  specialty  of 
bein'  more  or  less  of  a  bad  man  in  a  quiet  crowd, 
and  that  ain't  conducive  to  longevity  in  Texas  ; 
it  ain't  conducive." 

He  drank  his  cocktail. 

"  Does  Bailey  know  of  this  yet,  Tom  ?  " 
he  asked  the  bar-tender. 

"  Dunno,  Major,"  replied  the  bar-keeper, 
*'  but  I  seen  him  go  into  his  ofhce  over  the 
way  a  while  back." 

no 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

*'  Mix  me  another,  Tom,"  said  the  Major, 
"  and  I'll  walk  over  and  indicate  to  him  in  a 
few  well-chosen  words  what  I  think  he  should 
do.  Bailey,  for  a  bloomin',  blawsted  English- 
man, is  a  good  sort,  quiet,  steady,  and  goes  up 
into  the  collar  well.  How  he  ever  came  to  jine 
teams  with  Crowle  licks  me  !  How  he  parted 
with  him  is  easy  to  understand.  I  think  Bailey 
needs  a  word  in  season." 

He  drank  his  poison  and  walked  across 
the  sunlit  street,  which  was  four  inches  in  dust. 
Though  it  was  ten  o'clock  there  were  few 
people  about,  for  most  of  Painted  Rock's 
population  had  been  gambling  as  usual  till 
two  o'clock. 

"  I  don't  see  no  reason  why  Painted  Rock 
reckons  to  be  a  great  City,"  thought  the 
Major;  "  it's  a  sand-pit  and  a  hell  of  a  hole, 
that's  what  it  is.  At  night  we're  drunk,  and 
in  the  mornin'  we're  sorry,  and  the  trade  ain't 
what  it's  said  to  be.  I  shall  move  along  some- 
where, some  day.  And  I  guess  I'll  say  so  to 
Bailey,  and  add  briefly  and  neatly  that  he  had 
better  quit  as  well." 

He  walked  into  Bailey's  room,  which  was 
III 


PAINTED  ROCK 

behind  a  store,  and  found  him  working  in  his 
shirt-sleeves. 

"  Good-mornin',  Bailey,"  said  the  Major, 
as  he  spread  out  the  tails  of  his  frock-coat  and 
sat  on  the  corner  of  the  table. 

"  Good  -  morning,  Major,"  replied  the 
Englishman,  who  was  long  and  thin  and  fair, 
and  obviously  good-tempered  though  some- 
what worried  and  anxious. 

"  Do  you  carry  a  pistol  now  ?  "  asked 
the  Major. 

Bailey  shook  his  head. 

"Humph,"  said  the  Major,  "you  don't! 
I  reckoned  you  didn't.  Colonel  Briggs  let  on 
you  didn't.     Mebbe  you've  got  a  knife  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bailey,  "  certainly  not." 

"  Got  a  shot-gun  ?  "  asked  the  Major 
anxiously. 

Bailey  smiled. 

"  Why,  no.  Major,  I  don't  hunt  any." 

The  Major  nodded. 

"  Ever    been    hunted    any  ?  "     he    asked 
shortly.     "  There's  this  matter  between  you 
and   Crowle,    now.     I  hear  you've  won  your 
case  over  to  Fort  Worth." 
112 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

"  I  knew  I  should/'  said  Bailey. 

"  Crowle  stated  the  other  night  that  you 
and  him  couldn't  live  in  the  same  town  if  you 
won  it." 

"  I  heard  that,"  said  Bailey  steadily. 

"  Atkins  has  a  good  line  of  six-shooters  on 
sale,  my  son.  I  handled  a  forty- four  Smith 
and  Wesson  in  his  store  yestiddy  with  a 
balance  that  made  me  yearn  to  buy  it." 

"  Crowle  is  a  talker,"  said  Bailey. 

"  He  chins  a  lot,  I  allow,"  said  the  Major, 
"  but  he  gets  wild  with  steady  drink.  If  you 
don't  mean  to  go  heeled  I'd  quit  the  town 
for  a  while  and  let  him  get  some  used  to  the 
verdict." 

Bailey  set  his  teeth. 

"I'll  go  when  I  like  and  where  I  like, 
and  I'll  stay  if  the  prairie  was  full  of 
Crowles." 

The  Major  patted  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  For  an  Englishman  you're  all  right,"  said 
the  Major.  "  But  I'd  regret  some  to  see  you 
shot  up  any.  Ain't  you  got  legitimate  business 
elsewhere  for  a  day  or  two  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  Big  Springs  to-night  on 
H  113 


PAINTED  ROCK 

business     with     Jude     Harkness/'     replied 
Bailey. 

"  He'll  say  you've  run." 
"  Let  him  say,"  answered  Bailey.     "  If  you 
people  can't  keep  such  a  man  quiet,  or  shut 
up,  you  shouldn't  let  on  that  Painted  Rock 
is  the  City  you  make  out." 

"  I  think  Painted  Rock  is  very  small 
pertaters,"  said  the  Major,  "  Give  me  San 
Antone  or  Dallas.  But  I  recommend  you  to 
buy  a  gun." 

Bailey  shook  his  head  again. 
"■  I'll  not  buy  a  gun." 

"  So  long,"  said  the  Major,  and  Bailey 
returned  to  work.  About  noon  Tom  the 
bar-tender  at  the  American  House  slipped 
over  to  him. 

''  Mr.  Bailey,  Crowle  hez  bin  in  and  he 
allowed  he'll  shoot  more  holes  in  you  than  a 
colander." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not,"  said  Bailey. 
"  I'll  lend  you  a  gun,  Mr.  Bailey.     I  know 
you  don't  carry  one." 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  said  Bailey. 
"  Then  if  you  must,  keep  mighty  close  to  him 
114 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

if  you  run  agin  him,"  advised  the  bar-tender. 
"  You  kin  grab  him  and  take  his  gun  away 
Hkely." 

"  I  don't  think  he'll  do  anything  at  all," 
said  Bailey.  At  one  o'clock  he  had  dinner 
at  the  hotel.  A  dozen  men  offered  him 
advice,  which  he  received  civilly.  Cool  as  he 
was,  and  he  was  cool  and  obstinate,  the  steady 
insistence  of  the  town  that  Crowle  would  kill 
him  told  a  little  on  his  nerves.  He  was  rather 
glad  than  otherwise  that  he  had  to  go  to 
Big  Springs  that  night.  And  it  is  certain  that 
he  was  glad  when  night  came,  and  he  walked 
down  to  the  railroad  dep6t  in  the  dark. 

It  was  curious  how  dark  it  was. 

"  Another  thunderstorm,  I  suppose,"  said 
Bailey.  But  he  hadn't  been  long  in  north- 
west Texas,  and  had  not  yet  learnt  that  obvious 
looking  thunder  -  weather  rarely  brought  a 
storm.  He  ran  in  the  darkness  right  up 
against  a  man. 

"  Is  that  you,  Mr.  Bailey  ?  "  asked  a  voice 
that  belonged,  as  he  knew,  to  Mat  Dunmore, 
a  man  who  ran  cattle  on  the  cars  from  Painted 
Rock  to  Chicago  and  St.  Louis. 
"5  . 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Yes,  Mat/' 

"  I'm  glad  to  collide  with  you,"  said  Mat. 
"  The  Major  asked  me  to  tell  you  that  Crowle 
knows  you  are  leaving  for  Big  Springs,  and 
he  is  braggin'  you're  goin'  by  his  orders." 

"  I  shall  be  back  the  day  after  to-morrow. 
Mat." 

"  I'm  real  glad  to  hear  it,  sir,"  said  Mat. 
"  And  furthermore,  Mr.  Bailey,  Crowle  has 
gone  down  to  the  depot  to  see  you  go,  he  says, 
and  he  allows  he'll  ride  with  you  as  far  as  Jatan 
to  make  sure  he  hezn't  to  kill  you." 

*'  Damn  him  !  "  said  Bailey. 

"  Take  this,  sir,"  said  Mat.  Bailey  felt 
a  six-shooter  thrust  into  his  hand.  But  he 
refused  it. 

"  No,  Mat,  I'm  obliged  to  you,  but  I  won't. 
There  are  too  many  guns  in  this  town  already/' 

"  You  may  need  it  mighty  bad,  sir. 
Crowle' s  mad  drunk." 

"  I'll  chance  it,"  said  Bailey.  He  shook 
hands  with  Mat  and  went  on  to  the  dep6t, 
and  came  on  a  small  crowd  waiting  for  the 
passing  of  the  East-bound  express.  After 
that  had  passed  through,  the  accommodation 
ii6 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

train  for  Big  Springs  and  El  Paso  was  to 
start.  He  saw  Crowle,  who  stood  a  head 
and  shoulders  above  the  others,  first  of  all. 
Crowle  and  Bailey  were  the  two  tallest  men, 
they  said,  in  western  Texas. 

"  Here  comes  my  man,"  said  Crowle.  But 
he  said  no  more,  for  Gillett  the  City  Marshal, 
a  man  not  to  be  trifled  with  personall}/,  w^as 
close  to  him.  Bailey  went  by  him  and  got  to 
the  side-tracked  accommodation  train  just 
as  the  express  came  thundering  through  the 
depot  with  its  bell  upon  the  toll.  "  Stop," 
said  Crowle,  "  I'm  coming  with  you  !  " 

He  went  by  Bailey's  side  to  the  train  and 
climbed  up  after  -him.  The  rest  of  the  men 
stood  back.  Bailey  hoped  that  the  passenger 
car  would  be  full.  It  was  empty  save  for  an 
old  woman,  who  belonged  to  Big  Springs, 
and  two  nondescript  Westerners  come  from 
Heaven  knows  where  and  going  to  the  same 
place.  He  sat  down,  and  Crowle  sat  down 
opposite  him. 

Crowle  was  drunk,  but  steady,  and  his  eyes 
were  full  of  peculiar  and  devilish  malignity. 
Bailey  and  he  had  worked  together  for  two 
117 


PAINTED  ROCK 

years  in  Kootenay.  They  had  mined  to- 
gether in  Colorado  and  Arizona,  and  had 
drifted  together  to  Painted  Rock.  There 
were  a  thousand  memories  in  common  to 
both  of  them.  They  had  been  ''  partners/' 
and  partners  in  the  Western  as  well  as  in 
the  commercial  sense.  Now  the  law  stood 
between  them,  and  the  decision  of  the  law, 
and  one  had  taken  to  drink,  while  the  other 
was  climbing  up  again  in  the  great  struggle 
of  the  West. 

"  I  wish  I'd  bought  a  gun,"  said  Bailey. 
That  was  his  recurrent  thought,  "  I  wish 
I'd  bought  a  gun." 

He  felt  sure  that  if  there  had  been  no  one 
in  the  jolting,  swaying  car  that  Crowle  would 
have  shot  him  then  and  there. 

"I  hear  you  brag  you're  comin'  back," 
said  Crowle. 

"  Yes,  I'm  coming  back." 

"You'll  not  come  back,"  said  Crowle; 
"  you'll  stay  away  from  Painted  Rock." 

"  I  shall  come  back  to  Painted  Rock  the 
day  after  to-morrow,"  said  Bailey. 

And     Crowle     pulled     his     gun     suddenly 
ii8 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

and  had  it  pointed  straight  at  Bailey's 
heart. 

"  If  you  want  death,  Bailey,  you'll  come 
back.  I'll  not  be  put  out  of  them  town  lots 
by  you  or  any  court.  You'll  reckon  it  wisest 
to  stay  away." 

"  ril  come  back,"  said  Bailey. 

And  then  the  conductor  came  in.  Crowle 
whipped  his  "  gun "  under  his  coat,  and  by 
that  Bailey  knew  the  man  was  not  so  utterly 
mad  as  he  seemed.  For  the  conductor  was 
a  man  called  George  White,  with  whom  he 
had  once  had  trouble ;  and  White,  though  he 
was  little,  had  by  no  means  got  the  worst  of 
it.  He  eyed  Crowle  with  malevolence,  and 
Crowle  knew  well  that  if  Bailey  was  "  un- 
heeled  "  White  carried  a  gun  and  could  use 
it.  The  conductor  looked  at  the  tickets  in 
silence,  and  gave  Bailey  a  curious  glance, 
which  was  a  little  consolation  to  the  man 
who  was  saying  ''I  wish  I'd  bought  a  gun." 
Then  White  went  out,  and  once  more  Crowle 
covered  Bailey  with  his  pistol.  "  Fm  more'n 
half  a  mind  to  kill  you  now,"  said  Crowle, 
"  you  damn  English  robber,  sneaking  to 
119 


PAINTED  ROCK 

courts  and  robbin*  honest  men !  I've  more'n 
half  a  notion  to  blow  holes  in  you,  you  dog ! 
If  I  don't  on  the  train,  I'll  hev  you  off  of  the 
cars  at  Jatan  and  make  you  swear  to  quit  for 
ever." 

The  slaver  ran  down  his  jaws  from  the  angles 
of  his  mouth. 

"  The  man's  mad,"  said  Bailey.  "  I  wish,  I 
wish  I'd  not  refused  a  gun." 

But  if  he  had  made  a  motion  he  would 
have  been  a  dead  man  before  he  could  draw 
any  weapon.  Nothing  but  the  steady  strength 
of  quiet  endurance  saved  him.  He  heard 
Crowle  talk  and  never  took  in  what  he 
said. 

"  I'm  to  get  off  the  cars  at  Jatan  and 
swear,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I'll  not  get  off. 
I'll  swear  nothing.  The  day  after  to-morrow 
I'll  go  back  to  Painted  Rock,  and — and  I'll 
buy  a  gun." 

White  came  through  the  car  from  the 
caboose  at  the  end  of  the  train  three  times, 
and  each  time  the  madman  opposite  Bailey 
hid  his  weapon  and  grinned  hideously. 

"  It's  the  darkest  night  I  ever  saw,"  said 

120 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

White,  "  it's  as  black  as  the  inside  of  black- 
ness." 

"  By  God,  it's  black  for  me,"  said  Bailey's 
mind.  ''  I  wonder  whether  Wliite  has  a 
gun  to  lend?  " 

He  heard  himself  say  there  would  be  a 
thunderstorm.  He  heard  White  deny  it. 
He  heard  Crowle's  teeth  grinding  like  a  mad- 
man's, and  underneath,  and  yet  above  all 
things,  he  heard  the  rolling  of  the  cars  and 
the  click  of  the  wheels  as  they  passed  the 
joints  of  the  rails.  He  said  to  himself  that 
the  road-beds  of  the  railroads  of  the  United 
States  were  very  bad.  "  Especially  in  the 
West." 

Then  they  heard  the  locomotive  go  "hoot, 
hoot,"  and  White  went  out. 

"We're  coming  to  Jatan,  you  dog,"  said 
Crowle,  "and  I'll  get  out  there,  and  you'll 
follow  me  or  I'll  come  back  and  drag  you 
out." 

"  What  for  ?  "  said  Bailey. 

"  Because  I  say  it.  I'll  have  you  on  your 
knees,  swearin'  you'll  not  go  to  the  court 
agin',  and  not  come  back  to  Painted  Rock." 

121 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  I'll  go  back,"  said  Bailey  in  a  queer,  tired 
voice. 

They  heard  the  grinding  of  the  brake  blocks, 
and  the  train  slackened  down. 

''Are  you  gettin*  down?"  said  White, 
looking  in  the  car. 

"  When  she  stops  we  are  gettin'  down," 
said  Crowle. 

They  heard  a  voice  outside.  Bailey 
listened,  and  the  words  came  to  him,  but 
not  to  Crowle. 

''The  East-bound  express  cracked  a  rail," 
said  the  voice,  "my  gang  is  put  tin'  in 
another." 

"  Ain't  it  dark  ?  "  said  White. 

"  Never  knew  it  so  black,"  answered  the 
section  boss,  who  had  been  speaking.  *'  You 
want  one  lantern  to  find  another.  'Tis  a 
night  for  two  niggers  to  lose  touch  of  each 
other,  ain't  it  ?  " 

And  the  car  stopped  dead. 
"  Ain't  we  goin'  to  draw  up  a  bit  farther  ?  " 
asked  White.     "  Why,  my  caboose  and  half 
the  passenger  car's  on  it  still." 

"  Waal,  you  won't  go  through,  I  reckon," 

122 


PARTNERS  ONCE 

said  the  section  boss.     "  The  boys  won't  be 

long." 

White  came  into  the  car  where  Bailey  and 
Crowle  were.     Crowle  was  on  his  legs. 

"  I  reckoned  you  were  getting  off,  Mr. 
Crowle,"  said  White. 

Bailey  saw  a  strange  look  in  his  face,  and 
heard  a  strange  intonation  in  his  voice. 

"  Is  this  Jatan  ?  "  asked  Crowle. 

"  It's— it's  Jatan,"  said  White. 

"  I  don't  see  no  lights." 

"  There  ain't  none  just  here,"  said  White. 

Crowle  moved  to  the  door,  and  White  went 

out. 

"  You  come,"   said   Crowle,   and  somehow 

Bailey  followed. 

"  Here  you  are,"  said  White,  and  holding 
a  lantern  he  flashed  it  in  Crowle's  face. 

"  Damn  your  lantern ! "  said  Crowle.  He 
thrust  White  aside  and  got  upon  the 
step. 

"  You  come  off,"  he  said  to  Bailey,  and 
Bailey's  eyes  were  good  enough  to  see  what 
Crowle  did  not  see. 

**  Good  God !  "  said  Bailey  as  the  other  went 
123 


PAINTED  ROCK 

down  one  step.  White  grabbed  him  by  the 
collar. 

"  Don't  jump,  Crowle  !  "  said  Bailey.  They 
had  been  partners  for  years  in  Kootenay. 

But  Crowle  jumped,  and  uttered  a  hideous 
shriek  and  turned  over  and  over  before  he 
reached  the  rocky  ground  a  hundred  feet 
below  him.  The  tail  end  of  the  train  was  on 
Jatan  trestle,  but  Jatan  itself  was  miles  away. 
Bailey  heard  his  body  reach  the  rocks  with  a 
hideous  crash. 

"  He's  dead,"  said  White. 

"  You — "  stammered  Bailey — "  you " 

"  I've  saved  your  life,  Mr.  Bailey." 

The  engineer  whistled  "  off  brakes,"  and 
White  left  him  peering  over  into  the  depths 
beneath.  But  he  saw  nothing,  and  went  back 
into  the  car. 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow  I'm  going  back 
to  Painted  Rock,"  said  Bailey.  White  came 
in  presently  and  sat  down  beside  him.  He 
was  very  pale. 

"  Have  you  got  a  drink  on  you  ?  "  asked 
White. 


124 


VI 

THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

Though  there  were  but  sixty  miles  between 
Painted  Rock  and  Red  River  City,  and  sixty 
miles  in  Texas  are  nothing,  Ben  Williams  and 
Sage-brush  Greet  had  never  met.  Many  had 
hoped  they  would  come  together  :  both  the 
law-abiding  and  the  lawless  desired  it ;  the 
representatives  of  the  anaemic  law  were  at 
one  with  the  red-handed  in  this  matter.  For 
when  two  such  as  Ben  and  his  equal,  who 
was  known  familiarly  as  "  Sage,"  do  happen 
to  run  into  the  same  town,  there  is  usually 
one  funeral,  if  not  two,  which  will  be  attended 
by  a  thousand  thankful  mourners. 

For  Ben  w^as  the  terror  of  Painted  Rock, 
and    Sage    ran    Red    River   City.     They    ac- 
knowledged   no    superiors    and    endured    no 
equals.     They  were  quick  on  the  trigger ;  quick 
125 


PAINTED  ROCK 

in  their  wits;  and,  so  it  was  said,  of  bloody 
and  remorseless  courage.  Though  there  were 
some  who  would  have  taken  either  of  them 
at  a  disadvantage,  they  were  never  found 
"  unheeled "  or  unwary.  They  were  sober 
as  sobriety  goes  in  the  West ;  no  man  ever 
saw  either  of  them  "  full."  It  does  not  pay 
bad  men  to  get  full.  And  they  had  records, 
to  which  white  painted  boards  rotting  in  the 
cemeteries  of  their  respective  towns  bore 
bitter  witness.  Both  had  been  tried  for 
murder  in  their  early  days.  Both  had  been 
acquitted.  The  acquitted  homicides  of  the 
West  are  men  to  beware  of ;  they  hanker  to 
use  their  guns. 

They  talked  about  these  tyrants  with  bated 
breath  in  Painted  Rock  and  Red  River,  for 
no  one  ever  knew  who  would  crawl  to  Ben  or 
Sage  and  say — "  Old  man.  Bill  was  shootin' 
off  his  mouth  about  you  at  the  American  House 
las*  night." 

And  then  perhaps  Bill  went  where  all  men 
go  in  time.  But  he  went  ahead  of  time  and 
went  feet  foremost. 

It  is  true  that  certain  quiet  men,  who  did 
126 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

not  gamble  and  did  not  haunt  saloons  for  the 
purpose  of  swallowing  the  early  cocktail, 
were  not  afraid  of  either  of  them.  I  knew 
such  a  one  in  Painted  Rock,  and  he  was  a 
student  of  humanity,  though  he  would  have 
been  indignant  and  suspicious  if  one  had 
called  him  a  psychologist.  We  often  talked 
of  Ben,  and  sometimes  Sage-brush  too. 

"  I'd  like  'em  to  collide,"  said  the  Colonel; 
"I'd  love  to  see  a  head-on  colHsion  between 
these  two  steers.  I'm  a  quiet  man  and 
peaceful  now,  Charlie,  but  there  are  times 
I  hanker  after  my  long -lost  youth  and  the 
right  hand  I  lost  at  Gettysburgh.  Yes,  sir, 
I  hanker  after  it.  A  man  with  no  right  claw 
hez  to  be  peaceful  and  good,  when  no  manner 
of  practice  can  make  his  left  hand  shoot 
straight." 

He  sighed  rather  bitterly,  and  I  encouraged 
him. 

"  You've  had  your  time.  Colonel.  And 
now  Ben  Wilhams  is  having  his." 

"I'd  admire  to  see  his  sun  set,"  replied  old 
Webb,  caressing  the  stump  of  his  right  hand. 
"  He  threatened  to  blow  a  hole  through  little 
127 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Bobby  White  last  evenin',  so  I  hear.  For 
Bobby  will  run  wild  in  Gedge's  saloon,  and  he 
puts  his  hard-earned  dollars  into  faro,  which 
is  foolish,  and  he's  a  good  boy  and  clever. 
I'd  fair  admire  if  Sage-brush  took  Ben  down. 
And  if  Ben  did  up  Sage  'twould  be  no  loss  to 
his  perticular  locality.  And  I'm  thinking, 
Charlie,  that  Ben's  time  is  comin'  along  fast.'* 

I  asked  him  why  he  said  that,  and  the  old 
man  screwed  his  face  up  thoughtfully  before 
he  spoke. 

"  My  son,  I've  lived  long,  for  I'm  over  the 
three-score  and  ten  biz  by  three  years.  That's 
a  fact.  And  I've  seen  a  powerful  sight  of 
bad  men  in  my  time,  you  bet.  I  heven't 
ranged  all  along  the  Rockies  from  the  Wind 
River  Mountains  and  Butte,  through  Colorado 
and  Arizona  right  to  here,  without  seeing  of 
'em  rise  and  shine  in  splendour  and  fizzle  out 
in  blood.  And  some  lose  their  narve  and  git, 
and  start  again,  far  away  from  the  ha'nts  where 
they  was  notorious,  as  peaceful  citizens.  One 
I  knew  earned  an  honourable  livin'  for  years 
after  losin'  his  narve  by  cuttin'  wood.  I've 
watched  Ben  this  last  year,  and  I  see  signs 
128 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

in  him.  I  wish  Sage  would  run  over  here. 
I'm  half-minded  to  ride  over  to  Red  River 
and  throw  out  a  dark  hint  to  him." 

But  I  own  I  saw  nothing  in  Ben  Williams 
to  make  me  agree  with  Colonel  Webb.  I  was 
younger  than  the  Colonel,  and  didn't  know 
he  knew  more  than  I  did.  I  said  so,  and  old 
Webb  smiled. 

"  When  you're  seventy-three,  my  son,  you'll 
run  up  agin  a  power  of  young  men  that  knows 
a    blame    sight    more'n    you    do.      And    I'm 
prophesyin'    here   and   now  you   won't   agree 
with   'em  any.     I   think,   yes  I  do,   that   I'll 
ride    over    to    Red    River.     I'm    very    much 
fatigued  by   thishyer   Ben  Williams,  and   I'd 
sure  grieve  to  see  him  shoot  up  Bob  White. 
Bob's   a   clever  boy,    so  he   is.     There's   the 
makin's  of  a  fine  man  in  Bob.     And  there's 
the  makin's  of  a  fine  corpse  in  Ben.     I'd  fair 
admire  to  see  Ben  a  corpse.     I  tell  you  what, 
Charlie,  this  comes  because  no  one  cowhided 
him  when  he  was   young.     He  brags  he  was 
never  put  down  in  his  life,  never  took  water, 
not   even   from  his   old  Dad.     He'd   make  a 
handsome  dead  desperado,  so  he  would." 
I  129 


PAINTED  ROCK 

If  he  was  older  than  I,  I  gave  him  some  good 
advice. 

"  If  you  rake  up  Sage  against  him,  and  he 
hears  of  it,  Colonel,  he'll  not  be  put  off  shoot- 
ing because  you've  no  right  hand." 

''  That's  so,"  said  Webb,  "  that's  so.  But 
there  are  times  when  a  man  hez  to  do  his 
duty.  Bob's  young,  and  I  never  tole  you 
that  I  look  on  him  as  a  kind  of  relation.  I 
would  have  married  his  grandmother  if  she 
hadn't  married  another  man  before  I  sot 
eyes  on  her.  That  was  her  mistake,  pore 
thing;  and  ez  a  result  I've  run  around  the 
West  ever  sence.  I'll  ride  over  to  Red  River 
ter-morrer,  sure." 

I  paid  little  attention  to  what  he  said, 
and  went  about  my  owm  business.  But  two 
nights  afterwards  he  came  into  Hamilton's, 
where  I  was  boarding,  and  called  me  out. 
W^e  sat  down  in  a  couple  of  rocking-chairs, 
and  he  spoke  low. 

"  I  went  to  Red  River,  Charlie." 

"  Did  you  see  '  Sage-brush  '  ?  " 

"  To  bee  sure,"  said  the  Colonel,  as  he  lit 
a  ten-cent  cigar. 

130 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

"  What  sort  is  he  ?  " 

"Bgosh,"  said  Webb,  "he's  been  hard 
and  tough,  and  is  yet.  But  what  troubled  me, 
CharHe,  was  that  the  Hfe's  tellin'  on  him  too. 
I  could  see  it.  You  cayn't  be  a  bad  man  and 
a  terror  for  nothin'.  You  hev  to  pay  for  it. 
I  hear  talk  about  iron  narves,  Charlie.  You 
mark  me,  there  ain't  no  iron  narves,  my  son. 
I  could  guarantee  to  make  a  hero,  built  of 
chilled  steel,  tremble  and  cry  in  time.  Holdin' 
your  Hfe  in  your  hand  breaks  a  man's  narve 
in  the  end.  That's  clotted  wisdom  as  thick 
as  butter.  But  I  threw  out  dark  hints  to 
Sage  -  brush  that  now  was  his  time  to  do 
up  Ben.  They've  been  scared  of  each  other 
this  long  time.  I  let  on  I  reckoned  Ben's 
narve  was  goin'.  A  man  like  Sage-brush 
Greet  understands  that,  becos  he  hez  his  own 
experience  to  go  on.  Sage  will  be  over  here 
in  a  day  or  two.  Lay  low  and  say  nothin'. 
I've  told  no  one  but  Bob.  Bob  loves  me  like 
a  son.  I've  been  some  good  to  Bob,  because 
of  his  grandmother,  pore  thing." 

The  good  old  chap  smoked  quietly  for  a 
while,  as  we  looked  out  over  the  darkening 
131 


PAINTED  ROCK 

plaza.  On  the  right  side  of  it  rose  up  the 
dark  form  of  the  gaol.  Webb  pointed  at  it 
presently  with  his  finger. 

*'  What's  that  calaboose  for,  Charlie  ?  It's 
for  hoboes,  pore  harmless  hoboes,  and  a  drunk 
Mexican,  but  the  elite"  (he  called  it  eelight) 
"  of  crime  don't  go  thataway.  As  I  get  old 
I'm  more  for  law." 

He  sighed  and  rose. 

"  D'ye  think  I'd  hev  rode  over  to  Red 
River  if  I'd  bin  young  with  a  right  hand, 
Charlie  ?  Not  by  an  entire  barrel-full.  I'd 
ha'  bin  Sheriff  and  City  Marshal  and  desperado 
myself,  and  I'd  ha'  seen  peace  and  law  and 
order  flourishing  like  timothy  in  an  irrigated 
cultivation  patch,  flourishing  right  here  in 
Painted  Rock." 

He  walked  across  the  plaza  homeward. 

Next  morning  I  met  young  Bob  White  on 
Main  Street,  where  he  worked  in  a  store 
which  sold  everything  from  candy  to 
coffins. 

"  Did  the  Colonel  tell  you  ?  "  asked  Bob. 
**  He  did  so,  I'll  bet.  This  is  a  great  show 
we'll  have,  CharHe.  Jest  think  of  the  old 
132 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

chap  ridin'   over  to   Red  River  to  rake  up 
Sage  agin'  Ben  W^illiams  !  " 

I  yanked  him  hard  by  the  coat,  for  one  of 
WilHams'  parasites,  and  all  "bad  men"  have 
them,  was  loafing  on  a  barrel  of  hardware 
within  a  few  yards  of  us. 

"  Dry  up,  you  immortal  young  ass,"  I 
said,  as  I  looked  at  the  loafer. 

"  Oh,  he's  nigh  full  and  heard  nix,"  said 
White  contemptuously.  But  I  wasn't  sure, 
and,  as  it  turned  out.  Bob  was  wrong.  It 
pays  in  no  town  to  talk  too  much,  and  in  a 
Western  town  to  "  shoot  off  one's  mouth  "  is 
the  most  deadly  form  of  folly  with  loaded 
weapons. 

"  He'll  turn  up  to-night,  I  hope,"  said 
Bob.  "  I'll  be  in  the  American  House  then  to 
see." 

"  Much  better  stay  at  home,"  I  replied. 
"  If  there's  shooting  don't  run  up  against 
any  lead." 

But  a  kind  of  morbid  curiosity  took  me  to 

the    American    House    myself    about    seven 

o'clock  in  the  evening,   and   I   had   a  drink 

with  half  a  dozen,  and   stood   liquor  in  my 

.  133 


PAINTED  ROCK 

turn,  as  one  has  to,  and  then,  with  a  cigar 
in  my  teeth,  I  sat  down  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room.  The  bar  was  on  the  right  side 
as  one  entered.  I  hadn't  smoked  half  the 
cigar,  known,  by  the  way,  as  a  Havana-filler, 
when  Ben  Williams  walked  in  and  breasted 
the  bar.  He  was  almost  the  only  man  in 
the  town  who  dared  call  for  a  lemonade 
without  some  remark  being  made,  and  he 
called  for  one  now.  As  he  drank  it  the  even- 
ing drew  in  and  the  bar-tender  lighted  the 
lamps.  I  knew  the  man  well  by  sight,  and 
it  was  quite  true,  as  the  Colonel  said,  that 
he  would  make  a  handsome  corpse.  He 
stood  very  nearly  six  feet,  and  had  a  close- 
cropped  dark  beard  which  did  not  hide  the 
cut  of  his  strong  chin  and  jaw.  There  was 
the  look  in  his  eyes  which  is  common  in  all 
courageous  men  out  West,  only  it  was  greatly 
accentuated  in  him.  I  own  it  was  hard  to 
look  him  squarely  in  the  face  for  long.  It 
would  have  been  impossible  save  for  the  fact 
that,  like  all  such  men,  his  eyes  seemed 
to  take  in  the  whole  room  as  well  as  the  man 
he  was  talking  with.  He  dressed  very  quietly 
134 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

and  neatly,  for  he  took  a  pride  in  his  appear- 
ance. I  could  not  see  quite  what  the  Colonel 
meant.  The  man  appeared  perfectly  sound. 
He  had  killed  eight  men,  one  at  Fort  Worth, 
where  he  had  been  tried  and  acquitted  on 
the  ground  of  self-defence,  three  in  Arizona, 
and  four  in  Painted  Rock  and  at  Sweetwater. 
He  carried  his  "  pistol,"  as  we  all  did,  in  a  hip- 
pocket.  But,  unlike  most  of  us,  he  had  his 
pocket  cut  to  carry  one  and  had  it  lined  with 
leather.     He  was  a  dead  shot. 

When  he  spoke  I  did  think  that  I  noticed 
something  a  little  strange  in  his  voice.  There 
was  a  sharper  tension  in  it.  And  he  looked 
round  the  room  almost  carefully.  When  Tom 
the  bar-tender  lighted  the  lamps  at  the  back  of 
the  bar,  over  the  shelves  on  which  the  "nose- 
paint  "  stood  in  gaudy  bottles,  Ben  Williams 
spoke  sharply. 

"  Sa}^  put  out  that  lamp,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  the  one  which  shone  most  upon  his  own 
face.  The  other  one,  as  he  stood  sideways 
to  the  bar,  was  a  little  behind  him. 

"  Why  ?  "    asked  Tom,   who    had   grit,    as 
bar-tenders  must  have. 
135 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Because   I   say   so,"    said   Ben.     And  in 
spite  of  his  grit  Tom  put  the  lamp  out  thought- 
fully.    He    glanced    across    the    room    and 
caught  my  eye.     He  lifted  his  eyebrows  and 
looked  at  the  door.     The  very  next  moment 
a  stranger  entered,  or,  at  any  rate,  one  who 
was  a  stranger  to  me.     Nevertheless   I  was 
quite  aware  that  the  new-comer  could  be  no 
one  else  than  Sage-brush  Greet,  for  Tom's  look 
at    me    and   the   little  incident  of  the  lamp 
said  a  great  deal  to  anyone  who  understood 
the  West,  even  if  I  had  not  been  expectmg 
the   desperado   from    Red    River.     And   now 
if   I   had  had  what   Westerners  call  "horse- 
sense"    I    should  have  got   up   and  left.     I 
did  no  such  thing,  for  the  old  Colonel  walked 
in  behind  Sage-brush  and  sat  down  by  me. 
If  I  had  less  grit  than  the  old  man  I  couldn't 
show  it.    The  very  atmosphere  of  the  long 
room  became   electric.     I   saw  Pillsbury  the 
gambler,  who  was  making  up  his  faro  lay-out 
in  the  back  room,  lay  down  the  cards.     He 
passed  his  hand   mechanically  over  his  hip- 
pocket,   and  sat  down  quietly.     Outside  the 
glow  of  the  evening  was  dying  rapidly,  and 

136 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

the  lights  of  the  stores  and  the  Texas  Saloon 
opposite  began  to  show  themselves.  Men 
that  were  passing  stopped  to  speak  with 
others.  Sam  Grant,  the  bar-tender  opposite, 
came  out  on  the  side-walk.  I  saw  his  white 
shirt-front  as  he  leant  against  a  post.  A 
little  hum  rose  outside.  I  saw  a  boy  running. 
A  yellow  dog  sat  in  the  dusty  road  and 
scratched  himself.  I  heard  voices,  and  though 
I  could  distinguish  no  words  I  knew  what 
they  said. 

"  Sage-brush  is  in  there  with  Ben  Williams." 

The  fat  old  Dutchman  who  kept  a  quarter 

dollar    hash-house    stepped    inside    and    put 

his  lamp  out.     He  wasn't  the   man   to   take 

chances. 

And  all  this  time  I  was  looking  at  Sage- 
brush. He  was  long  and  thin  and  very 
hard,  so  men  said.  They  reckoned  at  Red 
River  that  he  was  a  very  "stout"  man,  and 
in  the  language  of  the  great  West  "stout" 
means  strong.  Ben  was  dark  and  ruddy, 
but  Sage  was  fair  and  had  long  tawny 
moustaches.  His  eyes  were  small  and  grey, 
his  jaw  heavy,  his  forehead  overgrown  with 
137 


PAINTED  ROCK 

hair  that  grew  downwards,  though  it  was 
close-cropped.  He  walked  up  to  the  bar 
lightly.     I  heard  the  Colonel  speak  to  me. 

"  He's  left-handed,"  said  the  Colonel.  "  Ben 
hasn't  the  best  of  it  though  his  right  hand  is 
free." 

For,  as  I  said  just  now,  Ben  Williams'  left 
side  was  to  the  bar. 

"  I'll  take  a  lemon  squash,  bar-keep,"  said 
Sage.  His  voice  w^as  perfectly  quiet  and  not 
unpleasant.  Tom  made  him  his  drink,  and 
Sage  turned  politely  to  all  the  rest  of  us. 

"  I'll  be  obliged,  gentlemen,  if  you'll  breast 
the  bar  and  order  your  own  especial  poison," 
he  said. 

We  rose  and  ranged  up  to  the  bar,  and 
all  of  us,  Williams  and  Pillsbury,  of  course, 
included,  took  a  liquor. 

''  Take  one  with  me,  Mr  Greet,"  said  the 
old  Colonel. 

And  Sage  said  he  would  take  one  later  if 
the  gentleman  didn't  mind.  Williams  hadn't 
spoken  till  now. 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Greet  of  Red  River  ?  "  he 
asked  politely. 

138 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

"  That's  me,"  said  Sage. 

"  My  name's  Ben  Williams,"  said  Williams. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Sage,  "  and 
shall  be  pleased  to  see  you  over  at  Red  River." 

We  got  back  into  our  seats.  I  felt  a  little 
easier  in  my  mind.  There  would  be  no 
trouble.  I  said  so  to  the  Colonel,  and  he 
never  answered.  Over  the  way  the  side-walk 
was  thronged.  I  saw  Bob  White  among  the 
men  there.  Then  I  looked  again  at  Sage  and 
Ben.  From  where  I  sat  Ben's  face  was  some- 
what in  shadow,  for  the  nearest  lamp  was 
behind  him.     I  could  see  Sage  very  plainly. 

"  You're  away  off,"  said  the  Colonel. 
*'  There'll  be  hell  up  Fourth  Street  and  blood 
on  the  face  of  the  moon  this  night." 

As  the  night  outside  grew  darker  I  saw  both 
men  better.  I  perceived  the  growing  tension. 
Tom  stood  back  against  his  shelves  and 
polished  glasses.  He  did  it  mechanically,  for  his 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  men  on  the  other  side 
of  the  bar,  who  leant  against  it  carelessly  and 
yet  rigidly.  Neither  took  his  eye  off  the 
other,  and  the  old  Colonel  put  his  foot  on 
mine. 

139 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Ben  will  cow  down,"  he  said.  '*  I  can 
see  it." 

"  This  is  a  quiet  town,"  said  Sage  presently. 

"  I  reckon  to  keep  it  quiet,"  said  Ben 
Williams.  His  eyes  were  burning  :  Sage's 
narrowed  to  slits. 

"  I  do  the  same  for  Red  River,"  he  said. 

Up  to  now,  though  they  had  looked  at  each 
other,  they  had  not  met  for  more  than  a  mere 
glance  with  their  eyes.  But  at  this  moment 
old  Webb  nipped  me  so  hard  that  I  restrained 
an  exclamation  with  difficulty.  The  men 
were  staring  at  each  other  steadily.  I  glanced 
into  the  back  room  and  saw  Pillsbury  close  up 
his  faro  lay-out.  By  this  time  his  room 
should  have  been  full.  The  street  was  full 
instead.  But  Sage  and  Ben  were  visible  to 
the  gathered  crowd,  and  everyone  outside  was 
silent.  They  knew,  for  all  the  quiet,  that  a 
duel  was  going  on  inside,  and  a  duel  more  deadly 
and  horrible  than  any  shooting.  These  two 
silent  devils  were  putting  their  minds,  their 
reputations,  their  courage,  into  the  cock-pit 
against  each  other. 

"Good  God!"  said  the  Colonel.  He 
140 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

moistened  his  dry  lips.  It  was  a  horrible 
hour. 

Each  of  these  men  had  slain  many  :  both 
had  defied  the  law  and  put  it  in  the  ditch. 
To  both  of  them  a  thousand  bowed  down. 
The  rumour  of  their  deeds  had  spread  across 
the  south.  They  were  heard  of  from  Galveston 
to  El  Paso.  The  life  they  led  tried  them  high. 
They  came  to  a  dreadful  final  test  this  night, 
and  something,  I  knew  not  what,  seemed 
to  tell  me  that  there  could  be  no  such  tragedy 
as  this. 

They  appeared  equally  matched.  I  heard 
old  Webb  sigh ;  his  eyes  were  almost  bolting 
from  his  head.  Tom,  as  I  knew,  had  plenty  of 
courage.  I  heard  that  his  hand  trembled  a 
little  as  he  put  a  glass  down  behind  him.  The 
silence  of  the  two  who  fought  was  strange  and 
dreadful.  Pillsbury,  who  was  no  chicken, 
spoke  to  me  about  it  afterwards.  First  I 
watched  one  and  then  the  other.  If  I  had 
pulled  a  gun  on  them  neither  would  have  seen 
me  move.  For  these  two  the  whole  world  was 
lost.  They  saw  nothing  but  each  other's  eyes, 
perhaps  each  other's  deep  and  inward  mind. 
141 


PAINTED  ROCK 

The  Colonel  whispered  to  me  without  turn- 
ing— 

"  I  never  reckoned  on  this,  Charhe." 
There  was  something  that  no  one  could 
have  reckoned  on  in  the  men  before  us.  Both 
of  us  had  seen  death  in  strange  and  horrible 
shapes.  The  old  Colonel  had  slept  among  the 
piled  dead  of  many  awful  fields.  And  I  had 
seen  sudden  death  too,  and  murdered  men 
whose  slayers  none  discovered,  and  death  by 
disease  more  dreadful  than  death  by  knife 
or  bullet.  But  neither  of  us  had  ever  seen 
two  such  men  fight  merely  with  their  eyes, 
with  their  intent  minds,  with  their  very  souls. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  both  forgot  that  they 
were  armed,  that  they  carried  lethal  weapons. 
Here  was  one  who  said  he  was  afraid;  and 
the  other  said  that  he  was  afraid.  And  they 
struggled  strangely  with  their  own  discovered 
weakness,  and  their  nerves  were  strung  and 
trembled  until  it  seemed  to  us  who  looked  on 
that  we  could  hear  the  sound  of  our  own  hearts 
and  theirs. 

I  was  sorry  for  them,  and  almost  grieved 
to  see   them   come   to   this   test.     A  strange 
142 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

momentary  anger  rose  in  my  heart  against  old 
Webb,  who  had  brought  this  thing  to  be. 
He  told  me  afterwards  that  in  that  hour  he 
repented,  for  this  was  so  much  worse  than 
the  shedding  of  blood  that  till  then  it  seemed 
he  had  beheld  nothing  awful  in  his  life. 

But  as  we  sat  there,   motionless,   unable, 
the  long  bloodless  duel  went   on.     We  saw 
their  lips  move  now,  but  no  words  were  spoken, 
and  we  guessed  darkly  at  the  silent  thoughts 
they  muttered.     Did  one's  eye  flicker,  or  was 
it    only   the   flicker   of   a   lamp  ?     Did   they 
murmur,  or  was  it  the  breathing  of  the  awe- 
struck   crowd    that    watched    at    the    door  ? 
Both  of  them  sighed  surely.     Did  one's  hand 
move  ?     Was  that  a  shaking  nerve  ?     I  looked 
again  at  old  Webb,   and  saw  that  he  had 
bitten  his  lip ;  a  little  trickle  of  blood  ran  down 
his  smooth-shaved  chin.     His  hand  trembled 
surely ;  I  felt  it  on  my  arm.     If  he,  who  had 
seen  and  done  so  much,  and  was  only  a  spectator 
with  so  little  at  stake,  felt  this,  what  did  those 
feel  who  had   their  very  souls   on  the  table, 
those  who  loved  power  and  the  fear  of  men  ? 
We  saw  one  doomed  :   out  of  this  only  one 
143 


PAINTED  ROCK 

could  issue.  And  for  the  man  who  was  defeated 
what  remained  but  laughter  and  biting  scorn, 
and  the  rebellion  of  those  he  had  put  beneath 
his  heel  ?  There  are  men  who  have  played 
poker  for  stakes  that  meant  ruin,  temporal 
ruin.  This  was  a  game  that  meant  death  at 
least.  It  might  mean  a  more  horrible  thing  : 
it  might  mean  the  degradation  of  a  man. 

They  had  reckoned  this  up  in  their  minds  : 
both  of  them  saw  it  :  both  knew  that  to  pull 
a  weapon  now  meant  the  acknowledgment  of 
defeat.  A  mere  motion  of  the  hand  would 
imply  resort  to  physical  means  to  save  a  life 
which  had  lost  that  honour  of  a  man  that 
endures  even  in  the  fine  scum  of  the  big  world 
they  lived  in. 

I  looked  at  Ben.  He  moistened  his  lips  a 
little,  and  Webb  got  hold  of  me  with  his  left 
hand  and  crushed  my  arm. 

"  He's  going  under,"  he  murmured. 

But  I  saw  Sage's  lips  move  too.  And  was 
it  true  that  the  light  showed  in  a  clearer, 
brighter  patch  upon  his  forehead  ?  It  seemed 
to  me  that  it  did.  I'm  sure  it  did.  The 
Colonel  said  later  that  it  did.  I'm  sure  that 
144 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

Ben  Williams  saw  it,  saw  that  Sage's  brow  was 
damp  with  sweat.  Good  God  !  when  he  spoke, 
as  he  did  suddenly,  my  own  heart  stood  still. 

"  You're  a  hell  of  a  bad  man  !  "  said  Ben. 
The  words  split  the  air  like  the  crack  of  a  pistol 
in  darkness.  I  saw  Sage-brush  writhe,  saw 
his  mouth  open,  saw  his  dry  tongue  upon  his 
lower  lip.  Ben  moved  up  to  him.  His  eyes 
were  like  coals,  and  he  laughed. 

"  You're  a  hell  of  a  bad  man.  Greet,"  he 
said  again.  And  poor  Sage's  jaw  waggled ; 
his  lip  dropped.  I  heard  the  Colonel  gasp. 
And  Ben  spoke  again  as  he  thrust  his  right 
hand  out. 

"  What's  that  you've  got.  Red  River  ?  " 
he  asked.  He  thrust  his  hand  deliberately 
under  Sage's  jacket,  and  took  his  "gun"  from 
him.  It  was  hideous,  it  was  monstrous.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  saw  a  writhing  thing 
beneath  his  heel.  Tears,  yes,  tears,  ran  down 
Sage's  cheeks,  and  he  shook  like  a  poor 
fascinated  beast.  An  hour  ago  he  had  been 
a  man  ;  now  he  was  lower  than  the  poorest 
beast  that  limps  vainly  from  inevitable 
death. 

K  145 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Ben  spoke  again,  as  he  looked  at  Sage's 
six-shooter. 

''  Boys  shouldn't  be  allowed  to  carry 
weepons,'*  he  said.  And  so  saying  he  jammed 
the  nuzzle  of  the  gun  against  the  beaten  man's 
cheek.  He  raked  his  skin  with  it.  Then  he 
took  it,  "  broke "  it  down,  and  shot  the 
cartridges  out  on  the  bar.  Sage  cried.  I 
saw  tears  run  down  his  long  moustaches.  He 
shook  like  an  aspen.  I  heard  a  horrible  laugh 
outside.  I  could  have  struck  the  man  who 
laughed.  But  we  sat  paralysed  ;  not  one  of 
us  moved,  not  even  when  Ben  took  hold  of 
Sage's  moustache  and  wagged  his  head  to  and 
fro.  But  I  heard  the  old  Colonel  groan,  and 
I  knew  that  if  he  hadn't  been  maimed  he 
would  have  done  something  that  the  rest  of  us 
could  not  do,  or  feared  to  do.  For  though  I 
knew  that  Sage-brush's  life  was  safe,  I  knew 
that  no  other's  was.  A  word  from  anyone 
now  would  end  in  murder. 

"  Get  out  of  this,"  said  Ben;  "  get  out  of 
my  town.  Go  back  to  Red  River  and  tell  'em 
what  I've  done  to  you." 

He  turned  the  poor  wretch  round  and  kicked 
146 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

him  to  the  door.  He  kicked  him  off  the 
side-walk  into  the  street,  and  then  going  back 
picked  up  Sage's  "  gun  "  and  threw  it  after  him. 
The  Colonel  went  out,  and  I  followed  him. 
Sage  was  sobbing  in  the  dust.  His  horse  was 
"  hung  up  "  close  by.  I  saw  Bob  White  in  the 
front  of  the  crowd,  standing  close  by  the  store 
at  which  he  worked.  I  know  now  that  I  noticed 
an  open  barrel  close  by  him.  Some  of  Ben's 
parasites  laughed.  One  mean  hound  kicked 
"  Sage  "  as  he  lay,  and  the  Colonel,  who  was 
standing  by,  caught  him  by  the  ear  with  his 
left  hand  and  nearly  wrenched  it  off.  He 
never  saw  who  did  it,  and  no  one  told  him, 
though  he  went  howling  to  Ben,  who  still 
stood  by  the  bar.  Ben  struck  him  across  the 
mouth,  and  ordered  some  brandy.  He  needed 
it.  And  then  he  came  out,  just  as  Sage- 
brush was  getting  to  his  horse.  A  boy 
picked  up  his  six-shooter  from  the  dust  and 
ran  with  it  to  him.  I  heard  Greet's  despair 
as  he  spoke  to  him. 

"  I  don't  need  it  no  more.     I'm  not  a  man," 
he  said,  and  he  rode  away  through  the  parting 
crowd  \vith  his  head  upon  his  breast.     And 
147 


PAINTED  ROCK 

then,  when  the  tragedy  was  played  out,  as  it 
seemed,  the  tragedy  began.  For  Ben  WilUams, 
after  his  victory,  lost  his  self-control.  He 
had  been  tried,  and  tried  high,  and  now  broke 
down  into  the  desire  to  kill.  He  knew,  and 
none  knew  better,  how  near  a  thing  it  had 
been.  But  for  the  lamp  which  shone  more 
upon  his  opponent  than  on  himself  he  might 
have  been  crawling  in  the  dust.  He  saw  the 
Colonel  and  fell  into  a  bloody  rage. 

"  You  old  dog,  you  fetched  him  here  for  me," 
said  Ben,  and  there  was  running  slaver  on  his 
lips.  The  crowd  parted  suddenly  like  a 
divided  wave.  I  was  ten  yards  from  the  old 
Colonel,  and  saw  him  standing  upright  like  a 
man.  He  threw  his  hat  upon  the  dusty 
road. 

"  Shoot  me,  then,  you  hound,"  he  said. 
And  even  as  he  spoke  Ben's  pistol  cracked, 
and  the  men  about  us  groaned.  I  saw  the 
old  Colonel  fall,  and  even  as  he  fell,  and  almost 
before  he  touched  the  ground,  I  saw  Bob 
Wliite  run  to  the  barrel  by  the  store.  From 
it  he  took  the  bright  head  of  a  four-and-a-half 
pound  axe,  and  he  threw  it  straight  at  Ben 
148 


THE  MAN  WHO  TOOK  WATER 

Williams.  It  glittered  in  the  lights  from  the 
saloon,  and  it  struck  Ben  fairly  with  the  edge 
upon  the  temple.  He  threw  up  his  hands,  and 
as  they  went  up  the  muscles  of  his  dead 
hand  pulled  the  trigger  of  his  pistol  and  the 
bullet  went  into  the  air.  He  fell  prone  in  the 
dust,  and  writhed  a  little,  and  then  lay  quite 
still.  And  Bob  was  on  his  knees  by  old  Webb, 
crying. 

But  the  Colonel  didn't  die  that  time,  though 
he  went  very  near  to  it.  Bob  and  I,  and  for 
the  matter  of  that  the  whole  town,  nursed 
him  through  his  trouble,  and  everyone  was 
glad  to  see  his  white  head  again  when  he 
crawled  down  Main  Street  once  more.  Bob 
had  no  trouble  over  Ben  Williams'  death, 
for  the  jury  which  sat  upon  him  declared  that 
it  was  the  most  justifiable  homicide  which 
they  had  ever  heard  of. 

"  You  see,  I  wam't  heeled,"  said  old  Webb. 
"  I  had  nary  a  gun  on  me.  I  do  think,  Bob, 
that  if  Ben  had  shot  straight  some  of  you 
would  have  strung  him  up." 

All  the  town  said  so.  But  I  have  my 
doubts,  for  Ben  Williams  had  a  good  few 
149 


PAINTED  ROCK 

steers  and  plenty  of  money.  And  straight 
shooting,  combined  with  money,  will  go  a 
considerable  way  in  the  Panhandle  of  Texas 
even  now. 

"  And  what's  come  of  poor  Sage  ?  "  asked 
the  Colonel.  Not  a  soul  knew  till  weeks 
afterwards,  when  a  man  came  in  from  El 
Paso. 

"  After  he  crawled  out  of  Red  River,  he 
drank  and  gambled  all  he  had,"  said  El  Paso 
Smith,  "  and  then  he  rode  the  drawheads  of  a 
train  from  Big  Springs  to  our  town.  And 
now  he's  washing  dishes  at  a  low-down  hash- 
house  kept  by  a  Mexican  !  " 

"Is  he  tough  any  more  ?  "  asked  the 
listeners. 

"  Tough  !  "  sneered  El  Paso  Smith. 
"  Why,  a  Dutchman  could  slap  his  face  any 
day  and  he'd  take  water  then  and  there." 


150 


VII 

A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

Scurry  County  is  in  the  south  of  the  Pan- 
handle of  Texas,  and  its  southern  border  Hes 
some  forty  miles  or  so  north  of  Painted  Rock. 
But  as  Painted  Rock  is  the  only  town  there- 
abouts everybody  in  Scurry  County  knows 
it.  It  is  the  trading  centre  of  the  district, 
and  on  the  north-west  plateau  of  Texas  forty 
miles  is  not  too  far  to  ride  for  a  drink,  when 
a  drink  or  a  jamboree  is  indicated.  It  is 
not  too  far,  either,  to  ride  for  the  purposes 
of  love-making,  as  Jack  Higginson  of  Ennis 
Creek  in  Scurry  knew  well  enough.  The 
boys  out  there  love  space  and  distances  and 
the  fine  clear  atmosphere  of  the  prairie,  and 
they  know  in  their  hearts  there  is  nothing 
so  good  as  the  air  on  which  they  were  bred, 
or  the  girls  who  grow  up  there  with  them. 
151 


PAINTED  ROCK 

And  that  is  why  Jerome  Shaylor,  who  was  a 
very  quiet  "boy"  of  twenty-five,  though  he 
had  no  objection  to  Jack's  riding  into  Painted 
Rock  to  see  Mary  Smith,  had  a  very  great 
objection  to  Mr.  George  B.  Remington's 
riding  out  to  the  creek  to  see  Mamie  Griggs, 
who  was  the  belle  of  about  thirty  square 
miles  of  prairie  country. 

"  I  shed  shoot  him  straight,"  said  Jack 
Higginson ;  "  the  man  what  puts  as  much 
as  his  little  finger  between  me  and  my  Mary 
will  get  shot  up  some,  and  I'm  the  man  that'll 
do  it,  and  the  boys  know  it.  Ride  in  with 
me  to  the  Rock,  Jerome,  and  we'll  call  on 
thishyer  Mr.  Remington  and  show  him 
death  a-stickin'  out  a  foot,  lying  coiled  in 
his  path  like  a  rattler.     Say,  will  you  do  it  ?  " 

Jerome  was  unhappy,  and  scratched  his 
nose  in  doubt. 

"  You  see,  there's  Paw,"  he  said,  referring 
to  his  father.  "  Paw's  dead  agin  shootin' 
ever  since  he  shot  Jake  Meadows.  Jake's 
bin  a  sore  burden  to  Paw  ever  since,  bein' 
lame,  and  ridin'  out  here  to  see  Paw  and 
borrow  money,  moaning  about  his  leg  and 
152 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

his  bust-up  prospects  in  life.  Paw  says 
he'll  shoot  no  more,  and  he  says  if  any  of  his 
sons  shoot  there'll  be  serious  trouble  in  Scurry 
County,  and  I  darsn't  run  up  agin  Paw,  him 
bein'  the  man  he  is." 

For  Colonel  Shaylor,  who  really  had  been 
a  Colonel  in  the  Confederate  Army,  was  a 
very  hard  man  to  deal  with,  and  kept  his 
family  tightly  on  the  rein,  hke  the  fierce  old 
patriarch  that  he  was.  Jack  Higginson  re- 
cognised what  an  obstacle  ''Paw"  must  be, 
and  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  mighty  hard  lines  havin'  a  father 
like  your'n,"  he  said;  "an*  I  think  it's  a 
forsaken  pity  he  didn't  shoot  straight  when 
Meadows  invited  death.  If  Meadows  had 
been  dead,  your  ole  Dad  would  ha'  got  over 
it  by  now.  His  borrowin'  money  perpetual 
on  account  of  his  wounded  leg  keeps  the 
thing  green  in  the  Colonel's  mind." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Jerome.  "  He  said  that 
to  Meadows." 

"  Did  he  ?  " 

Jerome  nodded. 

"  And  the  limpin'  ole  scarecrow  lets  on  he 
153 


PAINTED  ROCK 

wishes  he  hed.  You  cayn't  do  nothin'  with 
a  thing  Hke  that.  He  rubs  his  derned  ole 
leg  and  sobs,  and  Paw  gets  mad  and  hands 
out  the  dollars,  wishin'  it  was  lead.  And 
then  he  says,  *  The  boy  o'  mine  that  resorts 
to  guns  in  a  difficulty  ain't  goin'  to  seecure 
no  blessin'  of  mine  and  no  share  o'  my 
property.'  " 

"  Hum,"  said  Jack,  "  that's  very  hard  on 
a  high-sperrited  son  o'  Texas.  I  say,  I'll 
think  upon  it  as  I  ride  into  the  Rock,  Jerome. 
And  mebbe  I'll  ask  Mary's  opinion.  She's 
no  love  for  thishyer  derned  Easterner 
Remington.  She  says  he  daren't  walk  out 
in  the  Rock  when  it's  dark.  But  I  dunno, 
women  sez  very  spiteful  things,  and  Remington 
don't  look  so  easy  to  scare  as  that.  I'll 
think  it  over,  Jerome." 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  replied  Jerome;  "  and 
now  I  must  whack  into  this  derned  ole  mes- 
quite  for  firewood.  I  wish  I  hed  Remington's 
neck  under  the  axe." 

And  Jack  Higginson  rode  into  town  think- 
ing. 

"  Blame  me  if  I  know,"  said  Jack.  "After 
154 


I 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

all,  I  reckon  Remington  would  cow  down 
without  shootin'  if  he  was  told  that  the 
bo3^s  of  Scurry  County  had  reckoned  that 
Mamie  Griggs  wasn't  for  export,  but  for 
home  consumption.  Jerome  ought  to  go  to 
him  and  talk  to  him^  straight.  I  reckon  he 
would,  only  he's  scared  his  gun  would  go  off 
of  itself.  But  Jerome's  a  good  boy,  so  he  is, 
and  it's  mighty  hard  he's  fitted  with  a  father 
that  don't  beheve  in  natur'.  My  ole  Dad 
ain't  that  sort.  By  gosh!  I  think  I'll  see 
Remington  myself.  I  ain't  scared  of  him,  nor 
of  no  father,  nor  of  my  gun.  I'll  take  him 
on  the  way  to  Mar^^'s,  so  I  will.  He's  a 
bit  of  a  lawyer.  Well,  I'll  tell  him  law  ain't 
no  sech  property  out  here." 

He  dropped  dowTi  from  the  prairie  and 
saw  Painted  Rock  shining  in  the  sun  by  its 
river  and  its  sand-dunes.  In  another  ten 
minutes  he  loped  on  his  broncho  into  the 
town,  and  pulled  up  on  South  Street,  outside 
a  pretentious,  brick-fronted  building  of  which 
all  the  rest  but  the  front  was  of  wood.  He 
hitched  his  pony  to  a  post  and  slouched  into 
Mr.  Remington's  office.  He  found  his  man 
^55 


PAINTED  ROCK 

working  in  his  shirt-sleeves  at  a  table  covered 
with  papers,  and  he  stood  gazing  at  the  lawyer 
with  a  complicated  feeling  of  contempt  and 
respect.  It  took  Jack  about  a  minute  and 
a  half  to  sign  his  name,  and  he  felt  that  it 
was  impossible  to  despise  Remington  quite 
so  thoroughly  as  he  wished  when  he  saw 
the  disturber  of  Scurry  County  write  about 
twenty  words  in  half  the  time.  And  then 
Remington  looked  up. 

*'  He  has  a  keen  eye,''  said  Jack.  "  I 
dunno,  maybe  he  won't  scare  worth  a  cent." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  lawyer,  *'  and  what 
can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  You  don't  remember  me  ?  "  said  Jack. 

"  I  can't  say  I  do,"  replied  Remington. 

"  I'm  Jack  Higginson,  from  Ennis  Crick, 
Scurry  County,"  said  Jack,  "  and  I  mind 
seein*  you  out  to  Mr.  Griggs  a  month  back." 

Remington  nodded. 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure,  I  think  I  remember  you 
now.  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Mr.  Higginson  ? 
Anything  in  the  legal  way  ?  " 

"Not  much,"  said  Jack;  **  I  do  despise 
havin'  anythin'  to  do  with  law,  and  so  does 

156 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

Dad.  And  we  mostly  reckons  out  in  Scurry 
County  that  we  ain't  takin'  any.  What  I 
wanted  ain't  nothin'  to  do  with  law.  Some 
of  us  out  yonder  hev  been  talkin'  about 
you,  and  we  reckoned  we'd  tell  you  about 
it." 

Remington  pushed  his  chair  back  a  little, 
and  looked  straight  at  Jack. 

"  You've  been  talking  about  me,  eh  ? 
Well,  there's  no  charge  for  talk,  Mr.  Higgin- 
son." 

"  I  ain't  so  dead  sure  of  that,"  replied 
Jack.  "  I've  known  big  bills  for  talk,  sure's 
death.  But  I  reckon  you're  a  man  that  acts 
fair  and  haven't  no  desire  to  cause  trouble." 

"That's  so,"  said  Remington;  "but  come 
to  the  point." 

"  The  point  is,"  said  Jack,  "  that  you  air 
causin'  trouble  in  Scurry  County.  It's  talk 
around  the  Crick  that  you  air  courtin'  Mamie 
Griggs." 

"  Miss  Griggs  !  "  said  Remington. 

"  Miss    Mamie     Griggs,"    said    Higginson. 
"  It's  talk    around  the    Crick   that    you    air 
courtin'    her,    and    the    boys    out    thataway 
157 


PAINTED  ROCK 

hev  considered  the  matter,  and  hev  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  she  ain't  for  export  but 
for  home  consumption,  and  that  the  boy 
who's  to  hev  her  is  Jerome  Shaylor." 

"  And  what  does  the  lady  say  ?  "  asked  the 
lawyer. 

"  Haow  ?  "  said  Jack  blankly. 

"  What  does  the  lady  say  ?  " 

"  Demed  if  I  know,"  said  Jack  hastily. 
''But  that  ain't  the  point.  The  point  is 
what  we  say,  and  what  Jerome  says;  and 
Jerome  is  a  terror,  and  mighty  cruelto  strangers 
and  set  agin'  'em.  And  he  reckons  that  she 
ain't  to  be  cut  out  of  the  herd  and  branded 
by  a  stranger  like  as  if  she  was  a  maverick ; 
and  he  reckons,  moreover,  that  he  ain't  goin'  to 
stand  by  and  see  the  iron  put  on  her." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Remington. 

And  Jack's  enthusiasm  for  his  friend  ran 
away  with  him. 

"  Yep  and  indeedy,"  said  Jack.  "  He  sez 
he'll  fill  up  any  stranger  with  a  fine  quality 
of  lead  as  comes  around  her  corral.  She's 
the  flower  of  the  flock  and  the  flower  of  the 
prairie,  and  Jerome  savs  he'll  kiU  and  shoot 

158 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

up  any  stranger  that  looks  at  her.  And  all 
the  boys  along  the  Crick  reckons  to  back  him 
up ;  and  we  says  that  you  bein'  a  legal  lawyer, 
and  probably  stuck  on  peace,  will  see  that  the 
only  safe  way  of  proceedin'  is  to  keep  outside 
the  borders  of  Scurry  County,  and  prob'ly 
to  return  home  by  an  early  East-bound 
express." 

"  And  if  I  don't  I  am  to  be  shot  up  ?  " 
asked  Remington. 

"  Considerably  shot  up,"  said  Jack  with 
much  emphasis ;  "so  to  speak,  riddled  like 
a  sieve." 

"  That  would  be  inconvenient,"  said 
Remington,  "  very  inconvenient.  And  what 
would  you  think  of  me  if,  to  adopt  the  lan- 
guage current  in  this  romantic  locality,  I  took 
water  and  an  express  ?  " 

"  We'd  think  you  war  wise,"  said  Jack, 
"  but  our  opinion  of  you  would  be  poor. 
We'd  reckon  to  forget  you  quick,  havin'  better 
to  remember." 

"  Your  candour  is  refreshing,"  said  the 
lawyer.     "  But  I  happen  to  be  an  American." 

"  From  the  East.     Our  opinion  of  the  East 
159 


PAINTED  ROCK 

is  poor,"  said  Jack  Higginson.  "  Our  opinion 
of  them  as  was  raised  East  isi  lean  to  a  degree." 

Remington  nodded. 

"So  it  seems,"  said  the  lawyer;  "and  if  I 
decided  to  shift  my  stakes  at  the  request  of 
the  innocents  of  Scurry  County  I  should  agree 
with  you.  I  suppose  Mr.  Jerome  Shaylor 
has  made  you  his  intermediary  in  this 
matter?" 

"  His  what  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  I  mean  he  asked  you  to  come  and  tell  me 
this  ?  " 

"  That's  what  it  comes  to,"  said  Jack 
rather  uneasily.  "  We  cayn't  allow  no  stranger 
to  cavort  about  in  Scurry  County." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  asked  Remington. 

"  That's  all,"  said  Jack. 

"  Then  I  wish  you  good-afternoon,"  said 
Remington. 

"  And  what  am  I  to  teU  Jerome  ?  " 

"  Tell  him  I  shall  be  in  the  romantic 
neighbourhood  of  Ennis  Creek  some  time 
the  day  after  to-morrow,"  said  the  lawyer. 
And  Jack  Higginson  opened  his  mouth,  shut 
it,  opened  the  door,  went  out  and  shut  that, 
i6o 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

and  stood  by  his  pony  shaking  his  head,  as 
if  flies  were  worrying  him  too. 

"  I  hev  my  doubt  about  his  havin'  been 
raised  in  the  East,"  said  Jack.  "  But  it's 
done  now !  W'Tiatever  ole  Colonel  Shaylor 
says,  Jerome  will  hev  to  shoot  him  some." 

And  after  thinking  over  the  matter  he 
rode  on  to  see  Mary,  who  gave  him  still  more 
to  think  of  when  he  told  her  what  he  had 
done. 

"  And  what  will  Mamie  say  ?  '*  she  asked. 

''  Blessed  if  I  know,"  repHed  Jack.  "  That's 
what  the  law-sharp  says." 

"If  I  know  girls  she'll  make  you  wish 
you  were  dead,"  said  Mary  viciously.  **  How 
do  you  know  she  doesn't  like  him  best  ?  " 

Jack  shook  his  head  sulkily. 

"  She  cayn't  possibly  like  a  law-sharp  and 
a  stranger.  And  now  it's  fixed.  Jerome 
will  hev  to  shoot  him  some,  because  I  said  he 
would.  And  then  the  ole  Colonel  will  be 
mad." 

"  You've    done    a    very    silly    thing,"    said 
Mary.     "  What  would  you  do  if  I  liked  some- 
one better  than  you  ?  " 
L  i6i 


PAINTED  ROCK 

''  I'd  shorely  slay  him  in  the  tracks,  Mary," 
said  her  lover,  "  and  I  would  jump  upon  him, 
and  become  ravin',  tearin'  luny,  and  turn 
myself  loose  upon  the  town  and  do  up  all  my 
enemies." 

*'  Oh  dear!  oh  dear !  "  said  Mary,  "  I  think 
men  are  dreadful.  Would  you  really  do  all 
that  ?  " 

"  I  would,"  replied  Jack;  "  shore  pop  I'd 
do  it." 

"  And  what  should  I  feel  like  ?  " 

"  You'd  shorely  be  sad  and  lonesome, 
both  bein'  dead,"  replied  Jack.  "  But  I 
reckon  you  don't  love  no  one  better,  do  you, 
Mary  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Mary;  "but  I  think  you  are 
foolish  all  the  same,  and  I  shall  write  to 
Mamie  and  tell  her  about  it." 

Jack  looked  awfully  alarmed. 

"  You  won't  do  that,  Mary ;  she'll  be  on  to 
me  like,  oh,  like  a  coyoot  on  a  sick  sheep, 
and  I'll  feel  as  mean  as  if  I  was  raised  East." 
"  You  shouldn't  interfere  then  in  what 
isn't  your  business,"  said  Mary.  "  I'll  write 
now,  and  you  shall  take  the  letter  to  her." 
162 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

"Shorely  that's  playin'  it  low  down  on 
me,"  urged  her  lover  plamtively. 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  said  Mary.  "  I  won't 
have  Jerome  killed." 

"  You  mean  you  won't  have  Mr.  Remington 
killed,"  suggested  Jack. 

"  I  mean  nothin'  of  the  sort,"  said  Mary. 
"  Mr.  Pillsbury,  the  gambler,  told  father  only 
yestiddy  that  Mr.  Remington  was  the  best 
shot  in  Painted  Rock." 

Jack  gasped. 

"  You  don't  say  that,  Mary  ?  " 

"I  do,"  said  Mary;  "and  he's  not  an 
Easterner  either.     He  comes  from  Alabama." 

"  Alabammer !  well,  I'm  doggoned,"  said 
Jack.  "  And  I  talked  to  him  just  s'if  he 
came  from  Philadelphy  !  I  shore  think  Jerome 
has  run  agin  a  snag,  talkin'  of  killin'  him. 
For  what  with  the  ole  Colonel's  derned  foolish- 
ness, Jerome  cayn't  shoot  worth  a  cent." 

But  Mary  wrote  her  letter  to  Mamie,  and 
Jack  took  it  very  unwillingly,  and  rode  back 
to  Ennis  Creek  at  the  slowest  pace  he  could 
get  out  of  his  pony. 

"  Alabammer  !  Oh,  good  men  comes  from 
163 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Alabammer,"  said  Jack;  "I'm  some  alarmed 
that  Jerome  will  hev  to  back  down.  I'll  per- 
suade him  to  peace.  But  thishyer  letter  lies 
heavy  on  my  mind.  Mary's  mighty  cruel  to 
send  it  by  me.  Women  is  some  spiteful,  so 
they  are.     I  do  dread  seein'  Mamie  now  !  " 

And  he  rode  to  the  Griggs'  house  up  Ennis 
Creek  as  if  he  was  going  to  his  own  immediate 
execution.  He  met  Jerome  at  the  ford  just 
below  the  ranch,  and  pulled  up. 

"  Jerome,  my  son,"  said  Jack,  "  I've  shore 
a  sad  confession  to  make,  and  it's  a  deal 
tougher  than  cuttin'  mesquite  with  a  blunt 
axe.  I'm  a  blamed  fool,  so  I  am,  and  the 
proof  of  it  is  the  way  I  feel.  And  there's 
further  corroboratin'  written  evidence  of  it 
in  my  pocket,  very  convincin'.  I'm  no  better 
than  a  burro,  and  I  own  I'm  worse  than 
a  mule." 

"  What's  wrong  now  ?  "  asked  Jerome  in 
great  alarm. 

"  When  I  rode  in  to  Painted  Rock,"  said 

Jack,  "I'd  gotten  it   all  clear  in  my  mind, 

and  now  it  ain't  no  clearer  than  a  riley  crick. 

I   reckoned   I'd   see    Remington   myself   and 

164 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

set  out  the  sitaation  clear.  So  in  I  went,  and 
I  s'plained  to  him  that  we  'uns  didn't  want 
him  near,  and  not  in  the  county.  I  further 
said  we  was  clearly  of  opinion  we  could  even 
do  without  him  in  Texas,  and  I  said  the 
East-bound  express  was  hankerin'  to  haul 
him  back  East.  And  he  was  cool  as  a  January 
mornin'.  So  I  played  the  rest  of  my  hand, 
and  I  said  you  w^as  yellin'  for  his  blood  and 
would  shoot  him  up  on  sight.  And  I  allowed  all 
the  boys  in  Scurry  County  was  ekal  set  on  his 
immediate  decease." 

"  And  did  he  crawl  down  ?  "  asked  Jerome. 

"  Not  a  solitary  crawl,"  groaned  Jack.  "  On 
the  contrary,  he  bucked  up  s'if  he'd  took  a 
cocktail,  and  he  intimated  that  I  could  ac- 
quaint you  with  the  interestin'  fact  that  he 
would  be  in  the  rowmantic  neighbourhood  of 
Ennis  Crick  the  day  arter  ter-morrer.  And  it 
shore  seemed  to  me  that  you'd  hev  to  shoot 
him,  in  spite  of  your  Dad." 

"  It  looks  like  it,"  said  Jerome,  ''but  I 
don't  much  want  to." 

Jack  shook  his  head  again. 

"  That  ain't  all.  I  went  on  to  see  Mary, 
165 


PAINTED  ROCK 

and  like  a  derned  silly  galoot  I  let  on  I'd 
seen  Remington.  And  under  pressure  I  re- 
vealed all  I'd  said;  and  she  was  tearin'  mad 
with  me,  and  she  revealed  the  fact  that 
Pillsbury  told  her  Dad  that  now  Ben  Williams 
is  deceased  Remington  is  the  quickest  on 
the  trigger  of  any  man  to  Painted  Rock." 

"  Pillsbury  allowed  that  ?  "  asked  Jerome 
in  obvious  alarm. 

"  Pillsbury  took  his  oath  to  it,"  said  Jack; 
"  and,  moreover,  it  seems  that  Remington 
is  from  Alabammer,  not  from  the  East. 
It  'pears  to  me  I've  bin  wildly  foolish  this 
day,  and  I  regret  it  on  your  account ;  all  the 
more  because  Mary  wrote  a  letter  to  Mamie, 
and  I've  got  it  bumin*  like  mustard  in  my 
left-side  pocket.  And  she  swore  me  to  give 
it  her.  And  I  feel  meaner  than  a  trapped 
coyoot,  and  I  a'most  wish  I'd  died  in  my 
youth." 

And  Jerome  swore  viciously. 

"  So  do  I,"  he  yelled.  "  Jack,  you  are 
the  biggest  inter ferin'  fool  in  Scurry  County." 

"  Speak  up,"  said  Jack ;  "  say  it  again, 
rub  it  in,  I  allow  you're  right,  I'm  the  biggest 
i66 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

fool  in  Texas ;  I've  more  square  miles  of 
idiocy  in  m}^  territoary  than  any  man  I 
know." 

And  Jerome  relented. 

"  You  done  your  best,"  he  said.  "  If  he'd 
crawled  do\\Ti  it  would  ha'  bin  all  right." 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"  That's  where  the  flaw  was,"  he  said.  "  And 
now  I'll  face  the  music  of  Mamie's  voice,  like 
a  man  if  I  can." 

And  when  he  got  to  the  Griggs'  house,  and 
found  ]\Iamie  outside,  he  showed  his  courage 
by  hastily  dropping  the  letter  into  her  hand 
and  driving  the  spurs  into  his  pony. 

**  I  wonder  why  he  did  that  ?  "  asked  the 
belle  of  Scurry  County,  as  she  saw  him  gallop- 
ing as  hard  as  a  stampeding  steer  do^^Tl  the 
trail  to  the  creek. 

And  when  she  had  read  Mary's  letter  she 
knew. 

"  I  wish  he  had  stayed,"  said  Mamie,  and 
the  manner  in  which  she  said  it  was  a  promise 
of  a  hot  day  for  Jack  when  next  she  saw 
him,  unless  indeed  something  happened  before 
then  to  moderate  her  justifiable  wrath. 
167 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  I  wonder  Mr.  Remington  didn't  shoot 
him,"  said  Mamie,  sighing.  "  Oh,  I  wish  I 
lived  in  a  town  or  a  city ;  I'm  tired  of  Ennis 
Creek." 

And  while  she  was  thinking  that  the  prairie 
was  monotonous,  and  that  the  cowboys 
were  not  all  they  imagined,  Jerome  and 
Jack  Higginson  were  sitting  gloomily  outside 
the  house  of  Jerome's  '*  Paw,"  wondering 
what  would  happen  or  ought  to  happen, 
when  Mr.  Remington  of  Alabama,  who  was 
the  best  shot  in  Painted  Rock,  came  out  to 
Ennis  Creek  the  day  after  to-morrow. 

"  Things  is  alterin',"  said  Jack  bitterly. 
"  Here's  this  fencing  coming  along  !  Sheep 
takes  the  place  of  steers.  You  cay  n't  ride 
ten  miles  without  crossin'  wire  ten  times. 
The  buffalo  ez  a  thing  o'  the  past.  There's 
not  a  head  of  'em  left  even  on  the  Staked 
Plain.  Easterners  comes  here,  Law  comes 
here.  I  shall  get  up  and  git.  The  girls 
ain't  what  they  was.  Mary's  all  right,  but 
mostly  we  ain't  got  a  look-in  with  an  Eastern 
drummer.  Chuck  it  up,  Jerome,  and  go  to 
Arizona." 

i68 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

"I  ain't  stuck  on  Arizona,"  said  Jerome; 
"  Fm  stuck  on  Mamie." 

"  But  is  Mamie  stuck  on  you  ?  "  asked 
Jack.     "  When  did  you  ask  her  last  ?  " 

"  Not  sence  we  was  both  ten,"  said  Jerome 
uneasil}'. 

"  That's  a  long  time  lost,  ain't  it  ?  I  asked 
Mary  every  time  I  run  up  agin  her  this  last 
seven  years." 

"  Well,  I  never  reckoned  on  no  Remington," 
said  Jerome  bitterly.  "  I'm  stuck,  fair 
stuck.  If  I  kill  thishyer  Remington,  Paw 
won't  give  me  no  start;  and  if  Remington 
kills  me,  I'm  shore  out  of  it." 

*'  That's  so,"  said  Jack  Higginson.  "  I  own 
you  don't  seem  to  hev  no  luck.  Supposin' 
you  conclude  that  Mamie  ain't  the  girl  you 
took  her  for,  Jerome  ?  From  what  Mary  said 
it  seems  girls  are  dead  set  on  havin'  their  own 
way.  It  seems  like  this,  that  if  she's  set  on 
Remington,  she  won't  hev  you  if  you  kill  him ; 
and  if  she's  set  on  you,  she  won't  hev  Reming- 
ton." 

"  It  looks  like  it,"  said  Jerome;  "  but  what 
of  that  ?  " 

169 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  It  stands  to  reason,  the  way  I  look  at  it," 
said  Higginson,  "  that  arter  all  Mamie  hez 
the  call  of  both  of  you,  and  shootin'  seems 
vain.  It  goes  agin  a  man  to  own  it,  but  it 
looks  a  solid  fact.  For  once  I  own  I  don't  see 
what  good  killin'  a  man  is.  I'd  go  to  Mamie 
and  ask  her  straight  what  her  mind  is,  and  if 
she  says  '  you,'  you  hev  the  laugh  on  Reming- 
ton ;  and  if  she  says  Remington,  you  kin  look 
for  another  girl." 

"  I  don't  want  to  look  for  no  other,"  said 
Jerome  angrily. 

"  But  you  must,"  urged  Jack,  "  of  course 
you  must.  She'll  be  mad  if  you  do.  Mary 
said  as  much.  It  appears  women  isn't  the 
same  as  men.  They  hate  to  lose  any  man ; 
but  if  a  man  don't  want  a  girl  he  don't 
care  if  she  marries  any  galoot,  even  from 
the  East.  You  go  up  to  the  Griggs',  and 
speak  your  mind  plain  and  fair  and  square  to 
Mamie." 

''  I  will,"  said  Jerome. 

"  Right  off !  " 

"  Ter-morrer,"  said  Jerome. 

"  It  makes  you  mad,  I  reckon,  to  think  she 
170 


A  SCURRY  COUNTY  WOOING 

can  as  much  as  think  of  Remington,"  said 
Jack,  "  even  if  he  is  from  Alabammer." 

"  It  does  make  me  mad,"  said  Jerome. 

"  There's  prettier  girls  than  Mamie,  after 
all,"  said  Jack.  "  Do  you  reklec'  that  fair- 
haired  girl  to  Fort  Worth,  the  time  we  took 
steers  to  Saint  Louey  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  was  a  daisy,"  said  Jerome 
pensively . 

"  She  said  you  was  a  mighty  fine-lookin' 
young  feller,"  said  Jack.  "  I  never  tole  you 
that.     When  will  you  speak  to  Mamie  ?  " 

Jerome  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  She  ain't  treated  me  fair.  I'll  ask  her 
the  day  arter  ter-morrer." 

"  Remington's  comin'  that  day." 

"  Let  him  come,"  said  Jerome.  "  I  ain't 
one  to  go  where  I  ain't  wanted.  There's  just 
as  pretty  girls  as  Mamie.  Your  Mary's  just 
as  sweet." 

"She  is,"  said  Jack;  "and  I  know  it. 
She  says  you're  a  good-lookin'  chap,  Jerome." 

"  Straight  ?  " 

"  She  says  it." 

"  I  seed  a  Mexican  girl  at  El  Paso  that 
171 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Mamie  ain't  in  it  with/'  said  Jerome.  "  Mamie's 
too  much  stuck  on  herself." 

''  She  is,"  said  Jack.  "  She  has  a  bitter 
tongue,  and  I'll  hear  it  when  we  meet." 

Jerome  got  up. 

''  Look  here,  Jack,  I  don't  think  I'll  speak 
to  her  at  all,  for  seein'  that  she  said  years  ago 
that  she  loved  me  dear  I  reckon  she  ain't 
treated  me  fair." 

"  Times  I've  tho't  she  didn't,"said  Jack. 

"  She  can  marry  thishyer  Remington  if 
she  likes,"  said  Jerome  haughtily. 

And  she  did  marry  him. 


172 


VIII 

AN  EXILE  FROM  ''  GOD'S 
COUNTRY " 

About  — 85,  if  I  remember  rightly,  there 
was  an  almighty  frost  in  Florida,  almost  as 
bad  as  the  one  of  — 94,  when  the  orange 
trees  were  killed  as  far  south  as  Indian  River, 
and  that  was  why  Ben  Habersham  shifted 
stakes  and  came  into  Painted  Rock.  It 
was  also  the  reason  why  I  knew  him,  and 
it  was  the  reason  that  Susy  Habersham 
became  acquainted  with  Samuel  J.  Weekes, 
who  owned  a  cattle  ranch  on  the  upper 
waters  of  Wolf  Creek,  a  saloon  at  Big  Springs, 
and  a  store  in  Painted  Rock  itself.  Haber- 
sham was  a  big,  loose- jointed,  slop-built  Simple 
Simon,  who  took  to  erecting  windmills  for 
irrigation  as  he  had  raked  up  an  agency  for 
some  new  kind  of  wind  fakement,  on  the 
^73 


PAINTED  ROCK 

strength  of  which  he  came  West.  He  worked 
for  himself  at  first,  and  then  became  a  partner, 
so  far  as  windmills  were  concerned,  with 
Weekes.  He  fitted  up  a  number  of  them  in 
the  town.  One  he  put  up  for  Ginger  Gillett, 
who  had  a  great  notion  for  flowers  and  fruit, 
both  hard  things  to  raise  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Painted  Rock.  He  fixed  another  for  my 
friend  Gedge,  the  gambler  from  Georgia, 
who  had  a  shack  outside  the  City  limits  with 
what  he  delighted  to  call  a  "park."  It  was 
four  acres  of  dust,  sand  and  alkali  and  prairie 
dogs,  and  his  "  vines  "  were  a  measly  lot  of 
creepers  that  died  at  the  first  south  wind, 
if  any  survived  the  March  northers.  Haber- 
sham called  Florida  "  God's  country."  When 
a  man  out  West  does  that  you  may  reckon  him 
a  failure.  The  man  who  doesn't  fail  is  he 
who  takes  enough  root  for  the  time  to  forget 
the  State  he  came  from.  That  is  what  Ginger 
Gillett  said  and  did. 

"  I    don't    reckon   to   palaver   none   about 

where  I  come  from,"  said  Ginger  with  decision, 

"  nor  do  I  reckon  to  wail  any  about  what  I 

left  behind.    There's  a  complete  and  finished 

174 


AN   EXILE   FROM   "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

set  of  plumb  rank  failures  howling  in  Painted 
Rock  about  this  and  that  State  being  '  God's 
Kentry/  They  make  me  sick  and  tired. 
'  God's  Kentry  '  is  finished,  and  the  State  of 
Texas  is  still  in  our  hands  to  work  up  and  put 
the  poHsh  on.  But  the  women  is  the  worst  at 
it.  They  don't  remind  me  none  of  the  women 
of  forty-nine  that  old-timers  tells  about. 
They  had  grit,  and  could  stand  off  Injuns. 
These  ladies  cayn't  stand  off  a  mosquito, 
and  they  weep  sadly  at  a  centipede.  Mis' 
Habersham's  that  kind,  and  cayn't  cut  a 
steak  without  makin'  faces  at  the  j'int  she 
hacks  it  off  of  with  averted  face.  The  women 
from  '  God's  Kentry '  ain't  fit  to  raise  Texans. 
They  raise  too  much  riot  over  trifles." 

But  she  was  a  pretty  little  woman,  and  even 
the  fastidious  Ginger  Gillett  lowered  his  bull 
voice  in  her  presence,  and  was  exceedingly 
polite  when  he  met  her  on  Main  Street.  The 
cowboys  said  she  was  "  a  daisy  "  when  they 
swaggered  past  her  with  cropped  heads,  a 
tooth-brush  in  their  waistcoat  pockets,  and 
a  very  high  opinion  of  themselves  in  their 
little  minds. 

175 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  There'll  be  trouble  over  Mis*  Habersham 
yet,"  said  Keno  Gedge,  who  knew  the  world, 
and  had  a  wife  who  had  been  pretty  enough 
to  bring  one  man  to  the  grave  and  two  into  a 
hospital  before  she  quietened  down  in  double 
harness.  "  She's  a  danger  to  this  lonely 
society  of  bachelors,  my  son,  and  you  can 
lay  what  you  like  on  it.  If  I  was  Habersham 
Fd  see  she  had  no  sort  of  conversation  with 
Sam  Weekes.  Weekes  ain't  to  be  trusted 
with  women,  you  can  see  that  in  his  eye,  if 
his  record  didn't  prove  it." 

They  said  his  record  did  prove  it. 

"  Does  Habersham  know  it  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Habersham  don't  know  no  thin',"  said 
Gedge  bitterly.  "  He  knows  enough  about 
oranges  to  be  froze  out  of  Florida,  and  enough 
about  windmills  to  set  one  up  in  my  park 
that  won't  draw  water." 

Keno  Gedge,  according  to  Habersham, 
beheved  that  a  windmill  created  water  in  a 
dry  well. 

"  We  ain't  on  good  terms  over  that  dry 
windmill,"  said  Gedge,  "  or  Fd  get  Mis' 
Gedge  to  drop  him  a  hint  that  Weekes  is 
176 


AN   EXILE   FROM   "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

after  Mis'  Habersham.  He's  the  only  man 
in  Painted  Rock  that  don't  see  it." 

That  was  true  enough,  as  I  found  out  after 
a  month  or  so.  There  was  an  extraordinary 
reluctance  among  the  quieter  inhabitants  of 
the  town  to  say  anything  about  the  matter. 
It  was  no  one's  business  but  Habersham's, 
and  Habersham  was  just  the  man  to  kill  the 
fool  who  warned  him  there  and  then.  Never- 
theless there  was  talk,  and  the  baser-minded 
sort  soon  averred  that  the  talk  had  a  sound 
basis  to  go  on.  There  was  a  strange  row 
about  this  in  the  i\merican  Saloon  which  was 
very  characteristic  of  the  place  and  its  people, 
and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  of  the  West  like- 
wise. It  was  started  by  Sibley  Ranger  from 
Double  Mountain  Fork,  who  used  to  come 
into  to\vn  and  fill  up  beyond  any  limit  of 
discretion  once  a  fortnight. 

"  Haow's  George  Weekes'  huntin'  pro- 
gressin'  ?  "  he  asked  Gedge,  who  was  sitting 
on  a  bench  wdth  Pillsbury. 

"  Did  you  speak  to  me  ?  "  asked  Gedge, 
with  a  danger  signal  in  his  voice. 

"  To  you,  Keno  Gedge,"  said  Ranger, 
M  177 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  to  bee  sure  I  did.  I  asked  how's  Weekes* 
hunt  after  the  Floridy  lady  goin'  on  ?  Is 
she  caught  yet  ?  " 

Gedge  rose  from  his  seat  and  walked  up 
to  him.  He  was  little  but  was  as  hard  as 
wire,  and  now  he  was  in  a  dangerous  rage. 

"  Mr.  Ranger,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  had  a 
rasp  in  it,  "  do  you  know  that  it's  admitted 
on  all  hands  that  you're  the  biggest  fool  that 
ever  showed  up  in  Painted  Rock  ?  '  ' 

Ranger's  hand  was  lying  on  the  bar,  and 
Gedge  put  his  on  it.  Ranger  found  that 
iron  grip  immovable. 

"  You  ain't  for  startin'  a  difficulty  with  me 
for  sayin'  what  everyone  says  ?  "  he  asked 
quietly  enough. 

"  If  you  say  it  again  there  wiU  be  trouble," 
said  Gedge.  "  Do  you  understand  me  ? 
There'll  be  serious  trouble,  and  I  don't  want  to 
hev  my  business  interrupted  by  being  obliged 
to  leave  the  town  till  your  funeral  is  forgotten." 

Not  a  soul  spoke  a  word.  The  bar-tender 
wiped  a  glass,  put  a  bottle  straight,  and  stood 
quietly  expectant. 

"  You  talk  high,"  said  Ranger. 
178 


AN   EXILE   FROM   "GOD'S   COUNTRY'* 

"  I  talk  down  to  you,"  said  Gedge. 

Ranger  showed  for  once  an  adequate  sense 
of  the  situation. 

"  Well,  if  you  put  it  that  way,"  he  said, 
"  I  reckon  I  take  it  back.  I'm  not  in  your 
class  as  a  shot,  I  own  it;  and  if  I  was  to 
follow  my  unreasonable  desires  and  bash  you 
with  this  tumbler  I  know  I'd  be  dead,  and 
no  use  to  my  dependent  relatives.  I  take  it 
back,  Gedge.  I'll  say  no  more  about  it. 
Set  up  the  drinks,  Tom." 

And  Habersham  walked  into  the  saloon 
just  as  we  all  made  a  move  for  the  bar.  No 
one  thought  any  the  worse  of  Ranger  for 
"  taking  water."  There  are  ways  of  doing  it, 
and,  fool  or  none,  he  did  it  right. 

"  Habersham,  drink  with  me  and  these 
gents,"  said  Ranger.  '*  Me  and  Gedge  has 
been  arguin',  and  Gedge  hez  won.  I  own 
it." 

"  What's  the  trouble  ?  "  asked  Habersham, 
laughing. 

"  Gedge  let   on  he  reckoned  me   a  fool," 
replied    Ranger,    "  and    a    leetle    discussion 
ensued.     I  am  a  fool,  and  I'll  stand  nose-paint 
179 


PAINTED  ROCK 

to  prove  it.  How's  windmills  going  ?  Is 
the  wind  sufficient  to  send  'em  round  ?  I'm 
thinkin'  of  havin'  one  fixed  over  to  my  ranch, 
and  I'll  grow  roses  agin'  Keno  at  his  park." 

That  was  the  end  of  the  trouble.  But  when 
talk  had  got  so  far  it  was  bound  to  go  further. 
And  it  did.  The  elite  of  Painted  Rock  looked 
shy  at  poor  Mrs.  Habersham,  who  apparently 
never  got  as  much  as  a  hint  upon  the  scandal. 
At  any  rate  she  never  wilted  under  the  public 
gaze,  and  went  about  as  gaily  as  ever.  Gedge 
talked  to  me  about  her,  and  talked  a  little 
gloomily. 

"  One  w^oman  is  all  I  care  to  understand," 
he  said,  "  and  I  own  freely  after  twenty-five 
years  of  matrimony  that  Mrs.  Gedge  is  frequent 
as  hard  to  fathom  as  Ginger  Gillett  when  he 
starts  bluffin'  at  poker.  He's  the  best  amatoor 
at  kyards  in  the  county,  and  Pillsbury  owns  it, 
as  I  do.  For  all  I  know  Mis'  Habersham  may 
be  bad  down  to  bed-rock,  or  she  may  be  no 
more  than  a  pretty  fool.  There's  times  I  put 
up  one  hypotheesis,  and  there's  times  I  argue 
from  the  other.  Women  are  shorely  sad 
enigmas,  and  apt  to  cause  woe.  If  Habersham 
i8o 


AN    EXILE   FROM   "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

hears  any  hint  of  what  is  spoke  of  I've  a  notion 
he'll  go  plumb  mad  and  bring  Mr.  Weekes* 
career  to  a  prematoor  close, — whether  with 
justice  or  without  I  ain't  just  now  inclined 
to  state.  There  are  times  when  the  worst 
views  of  human  natur'  come  natural,  and 
therefore  I'll  wander  over  to  the  drug  store 
and  get  Bailey  to  quote  me  a  price  in 
pills." 

The  next  day  I  rode  to  Snyder,  Scurry 
County,  and  stayed  a  week  with  Chapman,  who 
kept  the  Snyder  Saloon,  and  I  missed  the 
newer  developments  of  the  Habersham  story. 
But  I  came  in  for  the  conclusion  at  any  rate, 
for  I  met  Sibley  Ranger  riding  out  when  I 
came  within  ten  miles  of  Painted  Rock  on  my 
way  back. 

"  How^dy  ?  "  said  Sibley,  and  I  replied 
"  Howdy  ?  "  with  all  the  cordiality  of  the  prairie. 
He  pulled  up  close  to  me,  and  our  horses  put 
their  noses  together. 

"  There's  goin'  to  be  trouble  over  to  Painted 
Rock,"  said  Sibley  Ranger. 

"  What  trouble  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  About  Mis'  Habersham  and  Sam  Weekes. 
i8i 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Some  galoot  hez  bin  fillin'  up  Ben's  mind  with 
suspicions  about  her,  and  they  say  he  ain't 
spoke  to  a  soul  this  three  days.  I  met  him  by 
the  court-house,  and  he  was  ez  white  as  raw 
cotton,  and  was  talkin'  to  himself.  When  a 
man  does  that  it's  real  dangerous ;  there's 
trouble  afoot,  to  bee  sure.  I  hankered  some 
to  stay  and  see  it  out,  but  I'd  fixed  to  see  old 
Mackenzie  over  to  my  place  about  them  steers, 
and  if  I  missed  him  he'd  be  worse  to  deal 
with  than  a  rattler.  I  never  did  see  sech  a 
man,  plumb  locoed  he  is  at  times.  Gedge  is 
very  sore  about  the  Habershams  :  he's  stuck 
on  Mis'  Habersham  himself,  eh  ?  " 

I  thought  Mr.  Sibley  Ranger  was  safer  at 
Double  Mountain  Fork  than  in  town,  and 
said  so. 

"Waal,  I  dessay,"  he  drawled;  "my 
tongue's  my  cross,  and  it'll  get  me  into  trouble 
shore.  I  own  it.  But  if  you  hurry  up  you 
may  see  the  crisis.  The  crisis  is  comin'  along 
or  I  ain't  a  jedge  of  crisises.  There  was  that 
look  about  Ben  Habersham  which  nat'rally 
eventuates  in  the  deadly  exhibition  of  a  double- 
pronged  scatter-gun,  or  I'm  the  closest  example 
182 


I 


AN    EXILE   FROM   "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

of  high  discretion  in  north-west  Texas.    So- 
long  !  " 

I  reached  town  by  way  of  Wolf  Creek  at 
sundown,  and  the  first  man  I  saw  on  the  street 
was  Ginger  Gillett.  The  City  Marshal  looked 
worried. 

"  Mr.  Gillett,  I  fear  your  responsibilities 
are  weighing  on  3^ou,"  I  said.  "  You  are 
wearing  a  sad  expression  this  moment.  Who's 
been  shot  and  killed  since  I  saw  you  ?  " 

"  Peace  reigns  so  far,"  said  Ginger,  "  and 
there's  no  such  demand  for  coffins  as  to  raise 
the  price  yet  awhile." 

"  I  met  Sibley  Ranger  as  I  came  in,  Gillett, 
and  he  let  on  there  was  trouble  sticking  out  a 
foot  in  town." 

"  Dam-fool  Ranger's  right,"  said  Gillett. 
"  It's  about  Habersham.  Some  woman  hez  bin 
raisin'  hell  in  my  town  by  speakin'  to  him,  and 
if  I  could  locate  her  I'd  do  some  talkin'.  Poor 
Ben's  mad  :  he  ain't  spoke  to  Mis'  Habersham 
for  three  days,  and  he  caymps  out  on  the 
verandy.  She  kem  to  me  weepin'  some,  and 
she  let  on  there' d  be  killin'  if  he  warn't  calmed 
down.     She    vows    she    don't    know    what's 

183 


PAINTED  ROCK 

wrong  with  him,  and  I  jest  couldn't  tell  her  ; 
I  couldn't  !  " 

"  Then  you  think  there's  nothing  in  it  ? " 
I  asked.  I  got  off  my  horse  and  walked 
towards  the  busiest  part  of  the  town  with 
him. 

*'  Not  on  her  side,"  said  Ginger,  scratching 
his  red  head.  ''  She's  only  silly.  But  Weekes 
ain't  no  innocent.  Barrin'  that  I'm  reespon- 
sible  for  the  peace  of  this  locality,  I'd  jest 
as  soon  as  not  attend  his  funeral.  I  never 
had  no  weakness  for  him  ;  there's  a  deal  too 
much  of  the  hundred  per  cent,  usurer  about 
him." 

"  Does  he  know  he's  liable  to  die  suddenly  ?  " 

"  I  told  him  so,"  said  Gillett.  "  And  so  did 
Smith,  my  deputy.  He  ain't  put  foot  outside 
his  store  since  the  day  before  yesterday.  Other- 
wise he  shows  grit,  and  is  tolerable  easy,  to 
jedge  by  appearances." 

We  came  by  Weekes'  store. 

"  There  he  is  now,"  said  Gillett.  "  But  the 
store  isn't  lighted  up.  He  knows  better  than 
to  do  that." 

I  touched  him  on  the  arm. 
184 


AN    EXILE    FROM    "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

'  You're  thinking  more  how  to  save  Haber- 
shanr.  than  Weekes,  Ginger." 

"  To  bee  sure,"  said  Ginger.  "  I  ain't  stuck 
on  Weekes,  and  I  hke  Ben  all  right,  and  I  reckon 
I  like  Mis'  Habersham  enough  not  to  want  to 
see  her  a  widow.  For  the  truth  is  she  loves 
Ben  well." 

"  I  think  you'd  better  find  an  excuse  for 
locking  one  of  them  in  the  calaboose,"  I  said. 
"  Or  you  might  pick  a  quarrel  with  Weekes 
and  lay  him  out  for  a  spell." 

Ginger  Gillett  stopped  suddenly. 

"  I  say,  old  man,  that's  a  notion  !  Derned 
if  I  don't  think  it  over.  I  want  peace  in 
Painted  Rock.  I've  my  own  reputation  to 
think  of.  Painted  Rock  says  to  me,  '  Ginger 
Gillett,  give  me  peace,  put  down  riots,  and  let 
peaceful  citizens  live  till  their  time  comes.' 
And  I  say,  '  Right,  that's  my  idea  when  I  took 
the  position  of  Marshal.'  After  supper  I  shall 
interview  Mr.  Weekes,  for  so  far  Habersham 
ain't  committed  any  open  act  of  rebellion 
agin  me,  and  I  cayn't  arrest  him  on  suspish, 
not  much." 

And  then  we  parted,  I  to  go  to  Hamilton's 

185 


PAINTED  ROCK 

for  my  supper  and  he  to  consider  how  to  save 
his  reputation  for  peace  and  law  and  order. 
It  came  very  nearly  being  wounded  badly 
in  less  than  two  hours. 

After  supper  and  a  smoke  at  Hamilton's 
I  walked  across  the  plaza,  and  to  and  fro  there 
for  a  while,  and  then  strolled  into  Main  Street. 
Habersham's  house  was  in  the  outskirts  of 
the  town  to  the  north-west,  and  to  get  to 
Weekes'  from  his  place  he  had  to  go  through 
Main  Street  to  get  to  South  Street,  where  the 
store  was.  My  luck  happened  to  make  me  the 
very  first  man  to  see  Habersham  that  night, 
and  when  I  saw  him  I  was  shaken  up.  He 
was  white  and  fevered,  haggard  and  strained, 
and  his  eyes  were  like  live  coals.  That  might 
have  passed,  perhaps,  but  he  carried  a  shot- 
gun, and  it  was  notorious  that  he  was  one  of 
the  few  men  in  the  town  who  never  carried  a 
weapon  of  any  kind.  He  never  saw  me  as  I 
passed,  and  for  a  moment  I  was  paralysed.  I 
knew  that  he  was  going  to  Weekes'  store,  and 
that  if  he  got  there  he  or  Weekes  would  not 
survive  the  meeting.  There  were  men  in 
town  who  would  have  said  it  was  none  of  their 
i86 


AN    EXILE   FROM   "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

business.  There  were  others  who  would  have 
been  glad  to  see  Weekes  filled  up  with  lead. 
I  had  no  liking  for  him,  but  I  had  for  Haber- 
sham.    I  called  to  him  suddenly — 

"  Mr.  Habersham  !  " 

He  stopped  dead,  and  I  walked  back  to  him. 
If  I  could  only  hold  him  in  talk  for  a  minute  I 
might  see  Ginger  Gillett  or  his  deputy  on  the 
street.  At  the  worst  it  would  give  me  a 
minute  or  two  to  think.  And  in  a  minute 
anything  might  happen. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Habersham. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  I  said,  "  I've  just  come 
down  from  Snyder,  where  I  was  staying  with 
Chapman.  He  told  me  he  wanted  you  to 
put  him  up  a  windmill." 

This  was  a  lie  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 
Chapman  cared  about  nothing  but  horses 
and  poker,  and  Ennis  Creek  gave  him  all 
the  water  he  wanted. 

"  I'm  not  on  windmills  any  more,'*  said 
Habersham  thickly.  "  Oh,  God !  windmills. 
Oh,  go  to  hell !  " 

He  tore  his  coat  away  from  my  hand  and 
went  fast,  all  the  faster  perhaps  from  my 
187 


PAINTED  ROCK 

hindering  him.  There  was  only  one  thing  to 
do,  and  I  did  it.  I  had  not  the  least  desire  to 
get  myself  into  a  difficulty,  and  if  he  saw  me 
run  ahead  of  him  he  was  in  the  mood  to  kill 
me  first  and  Weekes  afterwards.  Neverthe- 
less I  meant  getting  to  the  store  before  he 
did.  There  was  only  one  way  to  do  it.  I 
ran  into  the  American  Saloon,  calling  to  Gedge. 
It  is  never  advisable  to  run  into  any  gambling 
saloon  in  a  hurry  and  without  warning.  The 
place  was  tolerably  full,  and  Gedge  was  dealing 
faro. 

"  Hallo  !  "  said  Keno,  "  what's  the  trouble  ?" 
"  Tell  Gillett  to  come  to  Weekes'  place 
now,"  I  cried,  and  with  that  I  pulled  aside 
the  window-blind  at  the  end  of  the  room 
and  jumped  through  the  open  window,  and 
left  the  crowd  buzzing. 

Habersham  had  to  walk  two  hundred  yards 
down  Main  Street  before  he  got  to  South 
Street.  By  going  through  the  window  I 
had  one  side  of  a  triangle  to  his  two,  and 
though  the  open  space  was  dark,  and  littered 
with  empty  kerosene-  and  fruit-cans,  I  made 
good  time  across  the  big  barren  lot.  I  felt 
i88 


AN   EXILE   FROM    "GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

sure  I  was  a  minute  or  two  ahead  of  Ben 
when  I  came  to  the  store.     I  thought  as  I  ran. 

"  m  make  Weekes  lock  the  door  and  lie 
low,"  I  said.  "  If  he  w^on't,  and  kills  Ben 
Habersham,  it  will  be  against  him." 

But  I  prayed  that  Ginger  Gillett  would 
come  quick.  This  was  his  business,  and  he 
was  in  his  element  in  dealing  with  such  things. 
Perhaps  I  was  a  fool,  and  yet  I  saw  poor 
Mrs.  Habersham's  face,  and  remembered  her 
as  she  was  when  she  sat  talking  of  the  fruit 
and  flowers  of  "  God's  country." 

I  ran  into  the  store.  Ginger  Gillett  and 
Smith  were  there  before  me !  It  seemed 
a  miracle  at  the  time,  but  I  knew  after\vards 
that  my  words  to  Keno  Gedge  had  nothing 
to  do  with  it. 

The  store  was  long  and  deep,  and  one  dim 
lamp  only  lighted  it.  On  one  side  were 
dry  goods  on  shelves  and  stacked  on  the 
counter.  The  other  side  was  filled  with 
hardware,  with  shining  tins,  with  lamps,  and 
all  kinds  of  household  gear.  The  back  part 
of  the  store  was  in  deep  shadow.  It  was 
full  of  casks  and  bales  of  all  sorts.  From 
189 


PAINTED  ROCK 

the  tie-beams  hung  clothes  of  various  sorts, 
slickers  or  oilskins,  long  boots,  and  some 
big  cow-hats. 

And  I  knew  that  Gillett  and  Weekes  were 
having  trouble.  Weekes  was  tall  and  dark, 
and  wore  a  beard.  Some  women  said  he 
was  a  handsome  man.  Men  as  a  rule  did  not 
like  him.  Gillett  had  owned  to  having  no 
love  for  him. 

"  You've  brought  it  on  yourself/'  said 
Gillett  angrily,  "  and  Til  have  you  know  I'm 
City  Marshal." 

"  Go  to  hell !  "  replied  Weekes.  "  You  can't 
drive  me,  and  you  bein'  Marshal  don't  faze 
me  worth  a  cent.  If  Habersham  shows  his 
nose  here  I'll  kill  him." 

I  heard  that  as  I  came  in. 

"  Habersham's  coming  here  with  a  shot- 
gun," I  cried.  We  heard  steps  even  then, 
and  I  saw  Weekes  pull  a  six-shooter  from  his 
hip-pocket.  With  his  left  hand  he  made 
a  motion  to  knock  the  lamp  over.  What 
happened  then  was  so  sudden  and  so  amazing 
that  I  fell  back.  Before  the  lamp  fell  I  saw 
Smith,  Gillett's  deputy,  shift  his  "gun"  so 
190 


AN    EXILE   FROM   ''GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

that  he  held  the  barrel,  and  he  struck  Weekes 
a  heavy  blow  with  the  stock  upon  the  head. 
He  fell  heavily,  and  at  that  moment  there  was 
a  shot,  by  whom  fired  I  could  not  tell.  And 
then  Habersham  appeared  at  the  entrance. 
The  lamp  had  had  little  oil  in  it,  but  it  blazed 
upon  the  floor,  and  by  its  flames,  before 
Gillett  thew  a  slicker  on  them  and  trod  them 
out,  I  saw  Weekes  lying  on  his  back  with  a 
great  red  splash  upon  his  face.  Then  there 
was  darkness. 

"  My  God!  "  said  Habersham.  He  too  had 
seen  w^hat  I  saw. 

"  You're  too  late,  Habersham,"  said 
Gillett  coolly.  I  saw  Habersham's  figure 
waver  against  the  outer  light  of  the  stars. 

"  I — I  meant  to  kill  him,"  he  said  in  a 
dreadful  whisper.     "  And  who's  done  it  ?  " 

"  I  have,"  said  GHlett. 

I  sat  down  on  a  keg  by  the  hardware  counter, 
and  as  I  did  so  Gillett  lighted  a  match  and 
another  lamp.  Then  I  heard  quick,  light 
footsteps  outside,  and  Mrs.  Habersham  came 
running.  She  saw  no  one  but  Gillett,  and  he 
had  his  back  turned.  She  thought  he  was 
191 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Weekes.  I  knew  she  thought  so,  and  was  in 
dread  what  she  would  say.  She  did  not  see 
Habersham.  If  she  spoke  a  word  that  would 
have  tallied  with  the  slanders  of  the  town 
he  would  kill  her.     But  she  cried — 

"  Mr.  Weekes,  oh,  sir " 

And  then  she  fainted  dead  away  in  her 
husband's  arms.  These  words  had  saved 
her  and  saved  him,  and  in  his  state  of  madness 
they  came,  I  felt,  like  cooling  waters.  For 
they  expressed  the  truth  of  her  innocence, 
if  they  said  nothing  as  to  the  blamelessness 
of  the  man  whose  body  lay  stretched  upon 
the  floor. 

"  Good  God !"  said  Ben  Habersham, — "  good 
God  !  " 

He  dropped  his  gun  and  held  the  poor 
woman  in  his  arms. 

"  Take  her  away  before  she  comes  to, 
Ben,"  said  Gillett.  And  Habersham  carried 
her  outside.  I  followed  him,  and  helped 
him  with  her.     But  suddenly  he  said — 

"  Don't  touch  her." 

He  picked  her  up  in  his  arms  like  a  baby, 
and  almost  ran  up  the  solitary  road.  I 
192 


AN   EXILE   FROM   ''GOD'S   COUNTRY" 

wondered  that  there  was  no  one  about.  They 
must  have  come  to  the  conclusion  at  the 
American  Saloon  that  I  was  crazy  and  not 
to  be  taken  notice  of.  I  walked  back  into 
the  store.  I  couldn't  understand  how  it 
was  that  Weekes  was  dead.  I  had  seen 
Smith  strike  him  with  the  butt  of  his  "gun." 
Who  had  fired  the  shot  ? 

Gillett  was  sitting  on  the  dry  goods  counter, 
swinging  his  heels  and  whistling. 

"  That  was  well  played,"  said  Gillett  coolly. 
"  There  will  be  peace  in  Painted  Rock  this 
night." 

Smith  annexed  a  quarter  cigar  from  a 
box  and  salved  his  conscience  by  dropping 
in  a  nickel. 

"  Who  killed  Weekes  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Nobody  killed  him,"  said  Gillett  scorn- 
fully. "  I  thought  you  tumbled  to  the 
racket.  He  ain't  dead.  Smith  downed  him 
with  the  butt,  and  I  pulled  off  to  give  it 
reality." 

Weekes  groaned. 

"  CaU  that  dead,  eh  ?  "  asked  Gillett 
callously. 

N  193 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  But  I  saw  a  thundering  lot  of  blood," 
I  said;  "  I'm  sure  I  did." 

"  Tomayto  ketchup  only,"  said  Ginger 
Gillett.  "  I  like  finish.  Tomayto  ketchup, 
nothing  more  !  " 

Weekes  sat  up.     He  looked  horrid. 


194 


IX 

THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

He  was  always  known  as  Brazos  Dick.  Like 
so  many  of  the  men  in  the  West,  and  for  the 
matter  of  that  the  men  in  all  other  places,  he 
was  for  ever  shooting  off  his  mouth  about  the 
glories  of  the  place  he  had  come  from.  He 
said  that  the  feed  on  the  range  at  the 
back  of  Ennis  Creek  was  a  fraud  compared 
with  that  on  the  Brazos  River,  especially  on 
the  North  Fork  where  he  had  been  bom.  He 
was  also  of  opinion  that  the  horses  in  that 
neighbourhood  were  away  above  any  horses 
raised  within  a  hundred  miles  of  the  Colorado, 
on  which  river  Painted  Rock  stands.  He 
also  said  that  no  man's  father  came  within 
a  thousand  miles  of  his  father  either  as  a  man 
or  a  "  buckero,"  which  was  his  way  of  pro- 
nouncing "  vaquero."  He  also  let  on  that 
195 


PAINTED  ROCK 

his  father's  son  was  a  real  daisy  and  knew  all 
there  was  to  know  about  horses  and  steers, 
but  he  did  it  all  with  such  a  delightful  air  of 
confident  innocence  that  no  one  took  offence 
or  attempted  to  show  him  that  he  did  not  know 
everything.  He  was  a  dear  good  chap,  kind 
to  horses  and  dogs,  and  to  all  men  who  weighed 
less  than  himself.  They  were  numerous,  as 
he  scaled  two  hundred  and  twenty  pounds 
without  his  long  boots  and  his  mesquite 
leggings  and  his  "  gun,"  which  was  equal  to 
any  gun  ever  "  pupped."  He  became  a 
friend  of  mine,  and  developed  an  extraordinary 
curiosity  about  other  places  than  the  Rio 
Brazos  which  led  to  certain  out-of-the-way 
events  in  the  life  of  any  ordinary  cowboy. 
He  asked  questions  all  day  long  when  we  were 
together.  When  we  were  apart  he  apparently 
spent  his  time  thinking  what  he  should  ask 
me  next.  The  following  is  a  fair  example  of 
what  happened  each  time  we  met. 

"  Say,  Charlie,  youVe   never  bin   in  Cali- 
fornia, hev  you  ?  " 

I  had  been  in  the  Golden  State,  and  said  so. 

"  Do  you  reckon  to  like  it  ?  " 
196 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Charlie.  What's 
wages  like  thar  ?  Tain't  all  wheat,  is  it  ? 
Is  San  Francisco  any  sort  of  a  town  ?  Would 
I  like  it  ?  Was  you  ever  to  Sacramento  ? 
I've  heard  that  Sacramento  is  as  hot  as  Yuma. 
Is  it  ?  Is  there  many  cowboys  in  the  State  ? 
I'd  admire  for  you  to  tell  me  about  California. 
For  an  Englishman  I  must  say  that  you're 
death  on  travel  and  hev  seen  some.  Go 
ahead,  old  son." 

Another  day  he  would  rope  me  in  to  tell 
him  all  that  there  was  to  be  told  about  British 
Columbia. 

"  I'd  hev  gone  thar,  Charlie,  if  it  hedn't  bin 
British.  Thar  ain't  no  true  freedom  where 
your  flag  flies.  Is  it  true  they'd  hang  me  if 
I  killed  a  man  fair  that  I  hated  and  hed  sent 
word  to  that  I'd  shoot  on  sight  ?  " 

"  It's  mighty  likely,  Dick." 

He  shook  his  head  with  great  disgust. 

'*  I  call  that  a  hell  of  a  country,"  said  Dick. 

"  Now  tell  us  more  about  your  town,  London. 

Did  you  say  that  it  would  reach  hayf  way 

from  thishyer  ranch  to  Painted  Rock,  and  is 

197 


PAINTED  ROCK 

there  more  folks  in  it  than  in  the  hull  o'  Texas  ? 
Oh,  I  say,  it  must  be  a  place  that !  Though  it 
is  British  Fd  admire  to  see  it.  Is  it  a  gay 
place  ?  Gayer  than  San  Antone  ?  B'gosh 
I'd  admire  to  see  it,  so  I  would." 

He  was  never  tired  of  talking  about  places 
that  he  had  never  seen.  He  differed  from  the 
average  Western  American  of  the  stay-at- 
home  variety  in  not  believing  that  what  he 
had  not  seen  was  not  worth  seeing.  But  he 
owned  that  he  found  it  a  little  humiliating  to 
have  to  come  to  an  Englishman  for  informa- 
tion about  Missouri  and  Oregon  and  Washington 
Territory. 

"  It  ain't  the  same  thing  askin*  you  for 
pointers  about  your  own  country,"  he  said 
very  kindly.  "  It  ain't  up  agin  me  any  that 
my  stock  of  knowledge  about  London  and 
England  is  scanty  to  a  painful  degree,  but  I 
own  it  smites  me  hard  that  you  know  nigh  on 
to  all  the  States  in  the  Union  and  all  I  know 
is  somethin'  of  the  Texas  Panhandle,  with  a 
few  tangled  memories  of  a  jamboree  in  San 
Antone  and  Fort  Worth.  I  tell  you,  Charlie, 
Fm  death  on  hittin'  the  road  and  seein'  things. 
198 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

If  my  pore  ole  father  ever  kicks  I've  made  up 
my  mind  to  pull  my  freight  out  of  this  and 
travel.  Tell  me  how  much  it  would  take  for 
me  to  cross  the  seas  and  see  London.  I'm 
death  on  seein'  London.  Lord,  hayf  the  way 
from  yer  to  Painted  Rock  and  houses  all  the 
way  !  " 

Whenever  he  came  into  Painted  Rock  he 
let  on  that  he  was  pining  in  the  sorest  way  to 
see  London,  until  the  boys  began  to  call  him 
"  London  "  instead  of  "  Brazos."  He  didn't 
mind  it  in  the  least,  for  he  was  the  best- 
tempered  boy  between  the  Arkansaw  River 
and  the  Rio  Grande. 

"  Shoot  off  your  mouths,"  said  Dick,  "  but 
you  will  be  mad  when  I  come  back  and  tell 
you  about  the  biggest  City  in  the  world  that 
ole  N'York  ain't  so  much  as  a  patch  on.  If 
N'York  was  as  big  as  London  the  galoots  from 
the  East  would  be  too  big  for  their  boots.  I 
ain't  stuck  on  men  from  the  East,  and  it  is 
pie  to  me  to  think  that  their  demed  ole  city 
ain't  as  big  as  the  one  they  hev  over  in  England. 
It  ain't  that  I  like  Englishmen  much,  though 
Charlie  here  is  all  hunky  in  his  own  way,  but 
199 


PAINTED  ROCK 

I'm  down  on  them  that  comes  from  the  East, 
I'm  down  on  'em  every  time.  So's  Mr. 
Pillsbury,  and  so's  Keno  Gedge,  and  Ginger 
Gillett  lets  on  he  fair  despises  'em.  What's 
poison  to  a  man  like  Gillett  gives  me  in- 
digestion." 

Nobody  paid  any  attention  to  Dick's 
avowed  intention  of  visiting  England.  They 
didn't  believe  him.  England  was  a  long  waj^ 
off,  and  nothing  to  brag  about  anyhow. 
Everyone  knew  that.  Pillsbury  the  gambler 
voiced  the  general  opinion. 

"  What  good  men  are  left  in  that  kentry 
keep  on  comin'  away,"  said  Pillsbury.  "  Stat- 
istics prove  it.  And  the  makin'  of  the  United 
States  was  the  loss  of  England,  and  we  bein' 
made  the  remainder  ain't  worth  seein'.  And, 
moreover,  I  despise  Yeurope,  all  Yeurope. 
There  they  sits  in  their  little  kentries,  each 
howlin'  he's  the  boss  of  the  Universe,  like 
rival  roosters  on  dung  piles,  and  here  we  sits 
lookin'  at  'em  and  smilin',  and  knowin  that 
we  could  whip  the  lot  one-handed.  Oh,  give 
us  a  rest  about  England  and  London,  Dick, 
do  give  us  a  rest." 

200 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

Dick  gave  them  all  a  rest.  But  he  didn't 
give  it  me.  By  the  end  of  the  year  he  knew 
as  much  about  gettin'  to  "  Yeurope  "  cheaply 
as  I  did. 

"  I  ain't  goin'  by  way  of  N'York,"  said 
Dick.  "  When  the  old  man  pulls  his  freight 
for  another  world,— -and  he  says,  poor  ole  Dad, 
that  he's  only  waiting  for  the  word  '  Gee  '  to 
make  a  move,— I'll  fix  up  with  Sam  Smith 
to  run  my  place,  and  I'll  hit  the  road  for  Noo 
Orl'ans  and  get  aboard  for  England.  If  I 
hit  N'York  first  I'm  sadly  afraid  I'll  stick 
there  like  as  if  I  was  in  a  sloo.  There's  a 
powerful  draw  in  a  big  city,  so  there  is.  Now 
San  Ant  one " 

A  month  afterwards  I  was  riding  on  the 
prairie  by  Wolf  Creek,  where  the  road  from 
Snyder  comes  into  town,  and  I  saw  Dick  in 
the  distance.  He  was  clad  in  his  best  clothes 
and  mesquite  leggings,  and  had  a  new  necktie 
on,  a  blazing  red  one  with  black  spots  on  it, 
and  wore  a  new  cow-hat.  When  he  saw  me  he 
let  a  yell  out  of  him  and  came  loping  up 
joyfully. 

''What  luck!"  said  Brazos,  "what  luck! 

201 


PAINTED  ROCK 

I'm  glad  to  see  you,  my  son,  for  Fm  off  this 
day  for  London  !  " 

He  sat  upright  in  the  saddle,  and  smiled 
bravely  at  me.  Certainly  he  was  a  fine 
handsome  boy.  But  I  had  not  heard  of  old 
Dick's  "  pulling  his  freight "  for  another 
world.     I  said  so. 

"  Oh,"  said  Dick,  "  you  didn't  hear  of  it  ! 
Poor  old  Paw  went  off  ten  days  ago.  He 
went  out  with  all  his  load  very  easy  :  smiled 
at  me,  he  did,  and  said  he'd  hed  a  good  life 
of  it,  takin'  it  all  round ;  and  he  said,  more- 
over, that  I'd  bin  a  good  son  to  him  (which 
ain't  in  the  least  trew,  but  it  pleased  me  to 
hev  him  let  on  thataway),  and  that  he  was 
goin'  home  to  Maw,  who  died  when  I  was  a 
year  old.     And  so  he  died." 

There  was  a  tear  in  his  eye  as  he  spoke, 
but  he  brushed  it  away,  pretending  that  it 
was  a  fly. 

"  But  you  ain't  in  any  sort  of  mourning, 
Dick,"  I  ventured  to  say. 

*'  Oh,"  he  replied  blankly  enough,  "  ain't 
I  ?  I  tho't  the  black  spots  on  the  neckerchief 
was  moumin'.     I  wanted  to  sport  one  without 

202 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

spots,  but  I  said  '  no  '  to  myself,  '  not  till 
you're  well  away  from  home.'  " 

I  said  that  perhaps  the  black  spots  were 
enough,  and  he  cheered  up.  We  rode  back 
to  Painted  Rock  together. 

"  You  come  to  the  deep6  on  the  quiet 
when  the  next  East-bound  express  rolls 
threw,"  said  Dick,  "  and  say  good-bye  to  me. 
I  feel  some  shook  up,  and  partial  skeered  at 
the  notion  of  seein'  England,  but  I'm  bound 
to  do  it." 

He  was  bound  to  try  to  do  it,  at  any  rate, 
for  he  started  on  the  next  express,  without 
a  soul  knowing  he  was  gone  but  myself.  I 
told  the  boys  that  night,  and  Pillsbury  shook 
his  head. 

"  Fort  Worth  will  slake  his  ardour  and  get 
his  money,"  said  the  gambler.  "  At  the  very 
farthest  Noo  Orl'ans  will  see  him  and  go  one 
better.  Brazos  Dick  will  be  crawlin'  back 
hyar  in  about  a  week,  beatin'  his  way  along 
the  T.P." 

But  for  two  months  not  a  word  was  heard 
of  Dick.  I  began  to  think  that  he  had  per- 
haps got  through  the  entanglements  of  "  Noo 
203 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Orrans,"  and  was  really  in  London.  I  sighed 
to  think  of  Piccadilly  and  Fleet  Street  and 
Charing  Cross.  I  saw  the  crowds  and  heard 
the  perpetual  thunder  of  the  traffic,  and 
remembered  many  old  friends  by  whom  I  was 
half  forgotten.  I  cursed  poor  Brazos  Dick 
for  making  me  feel  that  I  was  in  exile  on  the 
high  plateaus  of  north-west  Texas. 

Then  I  went  one  day  to  Sweetwater  on 
business,  and  caught  by  the  skin  of  my  teeth 
the  late  express  back  to  Painted  Rock.  As 
I  went  into  the  dimly-lighted  smoker  I  looked 
around  me  for  any  acquaintance,  and  the 
very  first  person  I  set  eyes  on  was  Brazos 
Dick.  But  the  boy  was  fast  asleep,  with  his 
long  legs  outstretched  on  the  opposite  seat 
as  far  as  the  uncomfortable  carriage  would 
let  them  go.  I  sat  down  by  Brazos,  wondering 
if  he  had  really  been  to  London.  I  looked 
up  into  the  rack  overhead  and  saw,  instead 
of  his  cow-hat,  a  bowler  !  In  its  ribbon  was 
the  conductor's  slip  for  the  ticket.  I  took  it 
down,  and  inside  it  I  read  "  London.  Extra 
Quality  !  "  The  boy  had  done  it  then.  He 
had  been  to  my  little  town  and  had  seen  the 
204 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

wheels  go  round,  without  a  doubt.  I  wondered 
what  he  had  seen,  what  he  had  done.  And 
yet,  after  all,  what  could  a  mere  wild  Western 
cowboy  have  seen  or  done  in  a  fortnight  in 
England  ?  When  I  said  that  I  forgot  how 
much  had  sometimes  happened  to  myself  in 
a  few  days.  I  remembered  and  sighed.  Then 
Brazos  sighed  and  yawned  and  woke  up. 

"  What,  Charlie  !  "  he  said  as  he  uncoiled. 

"  Brazos,  old  man,"  said  I.  We  shook 
hands. 

"  You  got  there,  Dick  ?  " 

"  You  bet.     I  got  there  !  " 

"  Like  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  blazes !  can  I  tell  ?  I'm  glad  to  be 
back.  Say,  tell  me  is  this  Texas,  old  man  ? 
Is  there  such  a  place  ?  I'd  admire  to  hear 
there's  a  kentry  called  the  Panhandle  !  Did 
any  son  of  a  gun  ever  mention  the  River 
Brazos  to  you  ?  " 

"  You've  had  a  time  ?  " 

Brazos  sighed. 

"  Amazin'  !  " 

"  Good  ?  " 

"  Sir,  there  ain't  words " 

205 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  ReaUy  ?  " 

"  Wonderful.  Charlie,  I'm  speechless.  I 
seen  your  town,  Charlie  !  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Made  me  feel  like  a  kid." 

"Tell  us!"  said  I.  "D'ye  know  Pic- 
cadilly ?  " 

"  I  began  thar,"  he  whispered.  "  Oh,  I 
had  a  holy  terror  of  a  time.  Piccadilly  !  I 
should  smile.  And  Pall  Mall  and  the  Strand 
and  Oxford  Street  !  I  admire.  I  tho't  I 
knew  somethin',  Charlie,  I  did !  And  me 
green  as  spring  on  the  range.  Me  know 
any  thin*  !  " 

"  Tell  me  what  happened  ?  " 

Could  any  Londoner,  any  man  born  in 
London,  and  for  years  subdued  to  its  en- 
chantments, be  otherwise  than  crazy  to  hear 
what  this  big  child  had  done  there  ? 

"  Wait,"  said  Brazos.  "  I'll  hev  to  tell 
the  boys.  We  ain't  far  from  Painted  Rock. 
We'll  go  to  the  American  House  and  I'll  stand 
up  and  say  to  them,  '  Hev  a  liquor  with  me,  a 
kid  as  used  to  know  nothin'  and  now  knows 
he's  green  ez  grass.'  Wait." 
206 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

He  was  full  of  everything,  and  yet  couldn't 
speak.  I  could  see  that.  He  needed  a  little 
oil ;  just  a  cocktail,  or  something  equivalent, 
to  set  him  free.  But  I  let  him  hold  his  tongue. 
We  were  near  the  Rock.  Presently  we 
reached  it.  He  took  his  grip-sack  and  got  out. 
The  dep6t  was  dark  enough, — not  a  soul 
spotted  him  in  his  bowler.  We  walked  up 
town  together. 

"  Painted  Rock,"  said  Brazos,  "  Painted 
Rock,  a  little  one-hoss  collection  of  shanties  in 
a  perairie  !     London,  oh,  my  !  " 

We  walked  into  the  American  House  and 
found  the  usual  gang  there,  Pillsbury  and 
Gedge,  and  Gillett  the  City  Marshal,  taking  a 
drink. 

''  What  ho  !  "  said  Pillsbury,  "  here's  our 
pilgrim  from  Noo  Orl'ans  kem  back  again  ! 
What  did  I  say,  boys  ?  I  told  you  that  Noo 
Orl'ans  would  ketch  holt  of  young  Dick,  if  he 
got  so  far.     Did  you,  Brazos  ?  " 

"  I  did,  Mr.  Pillsbury,"  said  Brazos  calmly. 
"  Like  it  ?    Was  the  gals  daisies  ?  "  asked 
Gillett. 

"  I  never  seen  one  of  'em,"  replied  Brazos. 
207 


PAINTED  ROCK 

'*  Gentlemen,  step  up  and  breast  the  bar  and 
drink  with  me.     I'm  glad  to  be  back  !  " 

There  was  something  in  Brazos  that  struck 
them  all.  He  certainly  wasn't  so  young.  He 
spoke  with  an  air.  Something  of  his  ancient 
ingenuous  look  had  disappeared.  The  men 
knew  he  was  one  of  them. 

"  We  wm/'  said  they. 

"  Here's  to  Texas  and  to  you,  gentlemen," 
said  Brazos,  "  and  to  London  Town  !  " 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  PHlsbury. 

"  London  Town;  London  in  England,"  said 
Brazos. 

"  You Ve  bin  thar  ?  " 

*'  Yep,"  said  Brazos. 

"  Straight  ?  " 

"  As  a  straight  flush,'*  said  Brazos. 

They  stared  at  him. 

"  You  don't  say !  Why,  you  ain't  bin 
gone  six  weeks !  " 

*'  Eight,"  said  Brazos.  "  Six  weeks  at  sea, 
one  in  London,  and  one  away  in  the  perairies 
and  mountings  in  the  no'th  of  England. 
Boys,  it's  a  town  !     Boys,  it's  a  kentry  !  " 

The  news  went  around.  In  twenty 
208 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

minutes,  nay,  in  ten,  the  bar-room  was  as  full 
as  if  there  had  been  a  killing  there  an  hour 
before. 

"  Tell  us  !  "   they  said.     "  D'ye  mean    to 


say 

"  Oh,  I  mean  it  !  " 

They  appealed  to  me. 

"  You  know  London,  Charlie.  Is  it  a 
straight  game  Brazos  is  playin'  with  us  ?  " 

I  said  it  was  as  straight  as  any  game  ever 
played.  I  took  his  hat  and  showed  them. 
They  sighed  and  turned  again  to  Dick. 

"  Tell  us,  Dick." 

"  Yes,  do,"  said  I.  "  Give  Dick  a  chance, 
boys.     Don't  smother  the  weary  wanderer." 

"  Get  on  the  table,  Dick,"  said  the  bar-keep. 

"  Good  word,"  cried  Pillsbury.  "  Give 
Dick  a  chair.  Boys,  Mr.  Dick  of  the  Rio 
Brazos  will  lecksher  on  that  haunt  of  tyrants, 
Britain  !  " 

The  room  hummed  applause.  And  Dick, 
in  spite  of  his  remonstrances,  was  hoisted  on 
the  table. 

"  We   stand   the   leckshurer   drinks,"    said 
Pillsbury.     Dick  drank  and  took  a  seat, 
o  209 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Give  it  lip  !  We'd  admire  to  hear,"  said 
many. 

"Hold  your  row!"  said  others.  "Oh, 
shut  your  mouths  and  give  Dick's  a  show  ! 
Speak  up,  Dick." 

And  Dick  spoke  up. 

"  I  said  I'd  go,  and  go  I  did.  Mr.  Pillsbury 
here  allowed  I'd  get  bogged  down  in  Fort 
Worth  or  Noo  Or'lans,  but  I  didn't.  Charlie 
here  gave  me  the  straight  racket,  and  to  add  to 
my  luck  I  run  across  a  sea-captain  in  the  cars 
near  Noo  Orl'ans  as  got  into  a  difficulty  with 
a  tough  in  the  cars,  and,  as  he  said,  bein'  a 
stranger  in  a  far  ken  try  he  didn't  know  how 
to  handle  toughs.  I  walked  in  and  choked  that 
tough  good,  and  me  and  the  conductor  booted 
him  off' n  the  cars,  and  thishyer  sea-captain  was 
much  obliged.  And  he  said  (his  name  was 
Daniel  Tuckett  of  the  steamship  Liverpool 
Belle),  '  You  want  to  go  to  London,  do  you  ? 
Well,  you  come  along  o'  me  and  I'll  plant  you 
in  London  River  for  a  little  over  four  bits  a 
day '  (half  a  crown  he  called  it),  '  and  we'll  be 
goin'  about  three  weeks,  and  for  a  friend  in 
need  like  you  I'll  do  it  for  less.'     And  he  done 

210 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

it,  for  he  charged  me  ten  dollars  all  the  way, 
and  the  grub  was  throwed  in,  not  to  say  it  was 
good,  but  they  had  no  better.  And  so  I  went 
to  sea  with  him,  and  the  first  thing  I  knew  was 
that  I  couldn't  eat,  and  it  alarmed  me  caun- 
siderable.  I  said  to  the  captain — '  I  cayn't 
eat.  It's  the  first  time  this  hez  occurred.' 
Says  he,  '  Bimeby,  in  about  half  an  hour, 
you'll  be  doin'  much  worse  than  not  eat.* 
*  Why  ? '  says  I.  '  It's  sea-sickness  comin'  on 
you,'  says  he.  '  I  never  heerd  of  it,'  I  tells 
him.  He  replies,  '  Then  it'll  surprise  you  all 
the  more.'  And  it  did.  I  wuz  that  sick  for 
three  days  there's  no  tellin'  about  it.  It's 
worse  a  deal  than  too  much  liquor,  for  that 
comes  to  an  end  in  time,  and  this  seems  a  fair 
stayer  and  no  fatal  error.  However,  bimeby 
I  gets  over  it  and  feels  very  good,  and  gets  out 
on  deck  and  fell  about  some,  the  boat  bein* 
unsteady,  and  the  sea  like  a  rollin'  perairie, 
and  very  uninterestin',  as  I  told  the  captain. 
And  he  says  the  sea's  always  thataway  or  too 
interestin',  and  he  tells  me  a  fair  horrid  yarn 
about  a  wreck.  I  disremember  all  the  details, 
but  I  remember  they  scared  me  some.     And  so 

211 


PAINTED  ROCK 

we  goes  on,  and  after  a  thousand  years,  boys, 
we  sees  a  light,  and  he  says;  '  That's  the 
Lizard.'  '  What  Lizard  ? '  I  asked,  and  he 
laughed  some  and  said  it  was  the  tail  of 
England ;  and  so  we  sails  along  up  a  place  called 
the  Channel,  though  I  seen  only  parts  of  one 
side  to  it,  and  at  nights  there  was  towns  strung 
all  along  like  lighted  cars,  very  handsome  to 
see.  And  we  got  around  a  corner  with  more 
lights,  and  into  a  river.  He  tells  me,  '  This  is 
the  finest  river  in  the  world,'  and  I  didn't 
contradict  him  none,  though  I  tho't  of  the 
Brazos  and  my  own  home  perairies.  And 
the  green  grass  was  curious  to  see.  And  then 
we  seen  millions  of  steamboats  and  ships,  and 
smoke  ahead  like  a  perairie  fire.  And  I  asked 
Tuckett  where  the  fire  was,  and  he  said  it  was 
London.  It  made  me  sad  to  think  I'd  come 
so  far  to  find  her  burnt  up,  and  when  I  said 
so  he  sat  down  and  nearly  died.  It  appears, 
boys,  they  burns  coal  in  London  town  all  the 
year  in  several  million  fireplaces,  and  don't 
see  the  sun  ever  in  consequence.  And  then  the 
river  narrowed  and  there  was  more  houses,  and 
then  so  thick  no  green  could  be   seen  any- 

212 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

where,  and  then  more,  and  it  was  London. 
And  Tuckett  takes  my  ten  dollars  and  says  if 
I  wants  to  go  back  in  a  month  he  can  take  me, 
and  if  in  less  a  friend  of  his  w^ill,  and  he  gives 
me  the  address  of  a  hotel,  but  I  didn't  go  to 
it.  I  went  to  one  Charlie  here  told  me  of,  near 
the  Strand.  But  I  thanked  old  Tuckett  all 
the  same,  for  he  was  a  good  sort.  And  I  got 
into  a  kaib,  a  kind  of  London  buggy,  and  we 
drives  seventeen  thousand  miles,  more  or  less, 
through  streets,  and  at  last  comes  to  a  narrow 
sort  of  caiion  where  my  house  is.  And  I  gets 
a  room  there,  and  the  gal  that  showed  it  to 
me  smiled  and  says,  '  You're  an  American, 
ain't  you  ?  '  I  didn't  deny  it,  but  how  she 
knew  so  quick  beat  me.  And  my  trouble 
begun  that  very  night,  boys.  And  now  I'll 
hev  another  drink." 

"  What'll  you  take  ?  "  asked  Keno  Gedge, 
who  was  very  much  interested  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  gambling  had  no  show  that 
night. 

"  B'urbon,  sir,"  said  Dick.  He  drank  and 
began  again. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  soon  as  I  was  fixed  up, 
213 


PAINTED  ROCK 

I  took  my  gun,  which  I  hedn't  carried  on 
board  the  ship,  and  loaded  her  and  shoved 
her  in  my  hip-pocket,  and  out  I  goes.  It  was 
nigh  on  to  nine  o'clock  then,  and  the  clurk 
in  the  office  seeing  me  going  out,  says,  *  Don't 
lose  your  way,  sir,'  and  I  says,  'D'ye  think 
I'm  a  tender-foot,  sonny  ? '  But  I  forgave  him. 
I  went  into  the  Strand,  and  sure  enough  I 
knew  I  was  a  tender-foot.  Charlie  here  useter 
let  on  about  the  Strand  and  moan  over  it 
some,  sayin*  that  Painted  Rock  was  dull  to 
it  in  spite  of  occasional  gunning  matches  : 
I  tell  you  here,  Charlie  was  right.  It  was 
gay  and  lighted  and  busy  as  if  the  hull  world 
was  there.  And  ladies  came  up  and  spoke 
to  me  kindly,  saying  they  could  see  I  was  a 
stranger,  and  I  said,  *  Not  so  strange  ez  that, 
ma'am,*  and  I  bowed  myself  off  and  wandered 
threw  Trafalgar  Square,  very  hunky  with 
fountains  and  a  monument  to  some  English- 
man that  fought  in  the  wars.  It  was  a  real 
gay  old  monument,  with  lions  to  it  handsome 
as  paint,  but  not  like  any  I  ever  see  in  books, 
and  certainly  not  like  our  '  cougars.'  And 
ez  I  went  several  strangers  spoke  to  me, 
214 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

saying  they  see  I  was  strange ;  and  I  put  *em 
off,  for  I  reckoned  to  hev  heard  of  bunco- 
steerers  before  then,  and  I  got  along  up  to  a 
Circus — the  Circus  of  Piccadilly.  This  was 
gay  as  a  festival,  and  the  number  of  buggies 
and  omnibuses  was  tremenjus.  I  tried  to 
cross  the  street  three  times,  and  each  time 
went  back  agin  ;  and  then  at  last  a  big  police 
officer  led  me  across  like  a  little  child,  and  he 
said,  '  You're  an  American  ?  '  I  said,  '  Howdy 
know  ?  but  I  am.  Kin  you  come  and  hev 
a  drink  ? '  But  he  said  he  couldn't,  but  he'd 
no  objection  to  drink  my  health  later.  So 
I  said  I'd  do  the  same  to  him  later,  and  went 
aw^ay.  And  from  w^hat  I  learnt  afterwards 
I  reckon  he  reckoned  to  be  donated  two  bits 
to  do  it  with,  but  I  didn't  know.  And  then 
I  see  a  place  where  they  says  '  Amer'can 
drinks.'  I  hez  one,  and  I  tells  the  bar-keep  that 
they  wuz  doubtless  drinks,  but  I  warn't  sure 
they  wuz  Amer'can.  He  surprised  me  some 
by  sayin',  '  They  cajm't  be  as  Amer'can  ez 
you,  my  son,  for  I  own  what  I  mix  cayn't 
be  known  to  kem  from  Arizona  a  mile  off.' 
And  I  owned  that  he  hed  me  thar,  though  it 
215 


PAINTED  ROCK 

was  Texas  I  originated  in.  It  appeared  he 
was  an  Amer'can,  and  we  talked  a  bit,  and  he 
told  me  hayf  the  men  in  the  bar-room  was 
the  worst  sort.  And  I  went  out  later  and 
wandered  here  and  thar  and  ever5rvvhere, 
and  finding  it  mighty  lonely,  though  as  full 
of  interest  as  any  dime  novel,  boys.  But 
I  begun  to  feel  as  if  I  hed  to  hev  someone  to 
speak  to  or  bust,  and  that  skeered  me  some, 
for  ez  a  stranger  in  a  great  city  at  night  I 
feared  I'd  fall  into  bad  company.  And 
perhaps  my  lookin'  s'if  I  was  from  Texas 
made  folks  speak  to  me.  And  you  see,  boys, 
I'm  tall  and  big,  and  there  wuz  few  bigger  on 
the  street  than  me.  And  my  cow-hat  seemed 
to  excite  cur'osity.  And  then  about  this 
time  the  streets  was  plumb  full,  a  regular 
jam  of  gals  and  gentlemen — fellers  in  a  rig-out 
I'd  never  seen  beef  ore,  mostly  shirt-front  and 
studs,  cur'ous  to  see,  but  what  for  I  didn't 
tumble  to.  The  street  was  thick  with  the 
London  buggies,  queer  concerns  with  a  man 
on  top  at  the  back  of  'em,  with  his  lines 
goin'  over  the  front,  the  derndest  arrange- 
ment I  ever  heerd  of.  And  there  was  trouble 
216 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

for  me  comin'  along,  and  I  never  knew  it. 
My  cur'osity  was  too  big  to  allow  me  to  fall 
a  victim  to  wiles,  gentlemen,  but  I'd  never 
been  in  a  crowd  beefore  bigger  than  a  crowd 
in  Painted  Rock  at  an  election  or  a  fight, 
and  presently  I  run  into  a  man  as  big  as  my- 
self, him  in  the  white-shirt  arrangement  beefore 
spoken  of,  and  it  appears  I  trod  on  his  toes, 
and  he  swears  some.  So  I  says  I  was  sorry; 
and  so  I  was,  for  I'm  heavy,  boys,  and  my 
foot  ain't  a  number  three  by  no  means.  But 
he  was  a  gentleman  and  no  mistake,  and  says, 
*  All  right,  my  son,'  or  words  to  thet  effec*, 
and  we  parts.  And  yet  hayf  an  hour  later 
the  terms  him  and  me  wuz  on  would  surprise 
you.  And  as  to  where  we  wuz  and  who  he 
wuz,  I  leave  you  to  guess  while  I  hez  another 
drink." 

"  Who   was   he,  Dick  ?  "   asked  the   crowd 
anxiously. 

"  And  where  did  you  get  to  ?  " 
"  And  did  you  and  him  get  friends  ?  " 
"  We    done    so,"    said    Dick,    \nping    his 
lips  with  a  silk  handkerchief.     I   saw  some- 
thing  in    the    corner    of    that    handkerchief 
217 


PAINTED  ROCK 

which    gSive     me     a    surprise.      It    was    a 
coronet. 

"  We  done  so,"  repeated  Dick.  "  But  I'm 
running  ahead  of  the  team.  I  walked  along 
considerin'  what  a  dern  cur'ous  world  it  was ; 
thinkin'  that  this  hed  bin  goin'  on  ever  since 
I  knew  Texas,  every  night  so  to  speak,  and 
me  thinkin'  Fort  Worth  was  the  crowdest 
place  on  earth.  And  I  tho't  of  some  you  hyar 
gentlemen,  some  of  the  youngest  ez  lets  on 
they  knows  everythin'.  And  I  remember 
Charlie  lookin'  at  some  of  you  very  peaceful 
and  contented  when  you  allowed  he  was 
green  because  he  didn't  know  somethin'  as 
you  did.  And  I  says,  '  Dick,  my  son,  it's 
possible  some  folks  in  Texas  is  as  green  as 
grass  after  all.'  And  the  tho't  of  them  as  I 
knowed  was  green  struck  me  powerful,  and  I 
laffed.  And  I  goes  into  a  back  street,  called, 
I  think,  Jackville  Street,  with  few  folks  in  it, 
and  I  yells,  I  fair  yells,  boys.  Tain't  no  good 
deny  in*  it,  I  saw  I  was  green.  And  just  then 
the  same  son  of  a  gun  as  I'd  trod  the  foot 
off  of  turns  up  Jackville  Street,  Picc'dilly,  and 
paysses  me.  And  jus'  then  I  hears  a  scream 
218 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

further  up  the  street,  and  I  opens  the  flaps  of 
my  ears  at  this.  So  did  the  White-Shirt.  I 
makes  three  strides  and  paysses  him,  and 
further  up  in  a  doorway  I  sees  three  big  galoots 
hed  a  gal  in  a  doorway,  and  her  cryin',  and 
one  big  brute  hammerin'  her.  And  White- 
Shirt  he  sees  me  payss  and  kems  alongside 
again,  and  he  says,  '  Bullies,'  and  I  says,  '  To 
be  sewer.'  '  We'll  down  'em.'  says  he,  and 
I  lets  on  I'm  his  sort.  And  we  goes  for  the 
three,  and  beefore  I  knew  it  there  was  four ;  and 
White-Shirt  and  me  was  havin'  the  time  of 
our  lives.  I  downs  one  joker  and  one  other 
downs  me.  And  then  there  was  five  of  'em 
somehow.  They  sprang  up  like  feed  after 
rain  in  spring,  boys.  But  White-Shirt  was 
gay  and  tough,  and  he  fair  massacreed  one 
tough  with  one  blow,  and  again  there  was 
four.  And  one  downs  me  again,  and  I  got 
fair  mad  and  got  up  again  and  I  pulls  my 
gun.  And  White-Shirt,  who  to  all  appeerance 
had  eyes  in  the  back  of  his  head,  says,  '  Don't 
shoot,  sonny,  give  him  the  butt ; '  and  I  give 
it  my  joker,  and  the  sight  I  made  of  him  would 
have  done  you  all  good  to  see.  So  then 
219 


PAINTED  ROCK 

there  was  only  three  again;  and  White-Shirt 
plugs  another,  and  he  upended  and  investigated 
the  material  of  the  side-walk  with  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  then  there  was  two.  And 
now  to  them  two  was  added  about  three 
hundred  women,  and  five  hundred  chaps  in 
white  shirts,  and  a  thousand  police,  and  me 
and  one  of  the  remaining  gang  went  waltzing 
through  'em,  and  my  own  big  White-Shirt 
he  had  the  other.  And  I  lands  mine  again 
and  again  with  the  butt,  and  then  I  got  that 
mad  I  said  to  myself  I'd  shoot  and  kill.  And 
I  shot,  but  didn't  kill,  for  White-Shirt  did 
up  his  man  and  knocked  up  my  arm 
as  my  gun  went  off  into  the  air.  And  we 
all  went  down  in  a  heap,  us  and  the 
thousand  police  as  they  calls  the  bulls.  And 
I  owns  I  knows  no  more,  for  they  squeezed 
the  life  out  of  me,  tons  of  'em.  And  when  I 
came  to,  I  and  Wliite-Shirt  was  bein'  led 
gently  up  steps  in  a  dark  court,  and  so  far's 
I  reklec'  we  had  an  interview  with  a  very 
fierce  w^hite-head  old  jayhawk  at  a  table,  and 
I  hears  WTiite-Shirt  say  very  angry,  '  If  you 
won't  bail  my  friend  out,   I'll  be  demed  if 

220 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

you  shall  me/  And  the  old  hawk  says,  '  Well, 
my  lord,  if  that's  your  decision  we'll  try  to 
make  you  all  hunky  till  the  mornin'.  For 
two  of  these  men  'as  their  skulls  fractured, 
and  your  friend  fired  his  gun  and  no  fatal 
error.'  " 

He  asked  for  another  drink. 

"  Was  he  a  lord,  then  ?  "  asked  the  entire 
crowd. 

"  He  was,"  said  Dick.  "  And  I  ain't  goin* 
to  say  he  was  much  the  worse  for  that.  I 
doubt  if  any  man  in  Painted  City  could  do 
him  up  with  his  hands,  if  biting  and  gouging 
was  forbid.  However,  to  resoom.  I  found 
myself  in  the  early  dawn  in  a  narrer  room 
without  much  accommodation  to  stretch  in. 
I  was  in  the  cooler,  and  I  felt  very  cool  and  sad 
to  think  whar  I'd  landed.  However,  the 
bull  brings  me  cawfee,  which  was  all  I  could 
take,  and  he  grins  at  me  s'if  he  was  pleased. 
And  I  asked  him  where  the  lord  was.  And 
he  said  he  was  in  the  next  room ;  and  he  let 
on  that  it  was  lucky  for  me  the  men  we'd 
killed  (if  we'd  killed  any,  but  he  warn't  sure) 
was  bad  characters  and  known  to  the  police  ; 

221 


PAINTED  ROCK 

and  he  said,  furthermore,  that  it  was  also 
lucky  my  partner  was  Lord  Cheviot,  a  gay 
kind  of  a  rooster,  and  very  popular  with 
everybody.  For  it  seems  that  the  magistrates 
are  skeered  to  do  very  much  to  lords,  because 
they  are  so  powerful.  '  It's  likely  you'll  be 
all  hunky,'  says  the  officer.  '  I  wouldn't  be 
alarmed  much,  my  son.'  And  I  wasn't. 
And  at  half  after  ten  me  and  White-Shirt 
was  took  out  and  presented  to  a  nice  old 
gentleman  with  gold-rimmed  spectacles  on, 
sitting  high  up.  A  policeman  interduces  us, 
mentioning  that  we  distinguished  ourselves 
the  night  before  in  Jackville  Street.  And  the 
old  gent  looked  very  stern,  but  I  seemed  to 
see  that  White-Shirt  knew  him,  and  he  says 
to  me,  '  It's  all  right,  my  boy,'  says  White- 
Shirt.  And  I  says,  '  Well,  my  lord,  if  it 
ain't  it  cayn't  be  helped.'  And  then  a 
policeman  let  on  that  the  Johnnies  we'd  gone 
for  w^uz  in  hawspital.  '  What,  all  of  'em  ? ' 
asks  the  old  gent.  '  All,  your  reverence,' 
says  the  officer.  And  the  old  boy  caun- 
gratulates  Lord  Cheviot  on  his  record.  And 
my  lord  saj^s  what  happened,  and  the  police 

222 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

fetches  in  the  gal  they  jokers  was  hammerin', 
and  she  tells  the  trewth,  with  a  black  eye, 
and  sobbin',  pore  thing.  And  what  they 
done  then  I  don't  know,  only  that  the  old 
gent  says  he  will  caunfiscate  my  gun.  With 
that  I  reemonstrates.  '  Your  reverence,*  says 
I,  '  what '11  I  do  without  my  gun  when  I'm 
back  hum  to  Texas  ?  '  And  he  allows  fewer 
guns  in  Texas  won't  harm  the  State  any. 
So  I  reckon  he'd  bin  here,  though  from  the 
look  of  him  it  didn't  seem  as  if  he'd  ever 
roamed  the  perairies.  And  out  we  goes,  me 
and  the  lord.  The  lord  he  done  something 
and  signed  something,  and  so  did  I,  and  it 
seemed  that  if  one  of  our  victims  finally 
perished  we  wuz  to  come  up  and  be  fined  five 
shillings  (which  is  a  dollar  and  two  bits)  or 
take  a  week  in  the  chain-gang.  Then  we 
goes  out.  And  the  lord  says  to  me,  *  Now,  my 
son,  you  come  along  of  me  and  tell  me  all 
about  it.'  And  I  likes  him  and  his  ways  (and 
so  would  you  if  you'd  seen  him  in  the  trouble), 
and  we  took  a  kaib  and  drove  to  his  rooms 
in  the  further  back  parts  of  Picc'dilly. 

"  Waal,  gentlemen,  you  may  guess  I  was 
223 


PAINTED  ROCK 

sure  some  perplexed  to  know  haow  to  handle 
a  lord,  but  it  comforted  me  some  to  see  that 
he  had  a  black  eye  just  like  any  other"  man. 
Lords  I'd  heerd  of  in  books,  and  knowin'  I  was 
not  in  my  owm  kentry,  it  seemed  to  me  that  a 
lord  might  be  difficult,  but  this  one  was  a 
gentleman  and  no  fatal  error.  He  treated 
me  square,  and  seemed  pleased  to  know  me, 
and  he  said  that  I'd  handled  those  fellers 
right.  And  when  we  came  to  his  rooms, 
which  was  in  Hayf  Moon  Street,  he  said 
'Shake,'  and  I  shook,  and  we  washed  off  the 
blood  in  baths,  and  he  loaned  me  a  shirt,  of 
which  I  was  in  sore  need.  And  he  had  a  man 
who  bro't  it  to  me  and  brushed  me  down  very 
civil,  and  as  quiet  s'if  he  brushed  cowboys 
from  the  Brazos  every  day,  and  presently  he 
says,  'Sir,  breakfast  is  on  the  table.'  And  I 
hed  breakfast,  of  which  I  was  in  sore  need. 
And  the  lord  said,  *  You're  a  daisy.  Tell  me 
where  you  come  from,  and  what  you're  doin' 
here,  for  sure  you  saved  my  life,  sonny.' 
And  I  instructed  him  haow  I  came  here,  and 
told  him  haow  Charlie  filled  me  up  with  London. 
I  asked  him  if  he  knew  you,  Charlie,  but  he 
224 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

said  he  was  sorry  he  didn't.  Oh,  he  was  very 
poHte,  though  he  cursed  some  at  times.  And 
I  told  him  all  I  knew,  and  then  he  said  he'd 
a  raynch  himself  out  in  this  kentry,  some- 
where up  by  the  Staked  Plain,  and  that  he'd 
offen  meant  to  kem  out  and  see  it,  but  that 
his  raynches  in  the  no'th  of  England  took  up 
his  time  some ;  and  I  asked  him  if  the  Queen's 
Court  occupied  him  any,  for  I  reckoned  to 
know  that  lords  hang  around  the  Court ;  and 
he  said  he  warn't  stuck  on  the  Court  any, 
and  preferred  bein'  on  his  own  raynch. 
And,  to  cut  the  thing  short,  boys,  he  said, 
*  Dick,  my  boy,  I  like  you,  and  ez  you've 
little  time  to  spare,  you'd  better  take  my 
man  and  see  London,  and  in  three  days  you 
can  kem  with  me  to  my  lordship's  ra5mch 
in  the  no'th,  and  I'll  show  you  some  horses 
and  cattle,'  and  I  said  I  would.  Boys,  it 
was  luck.  For,  what's  more,  he  said  my  hotel 
warn't  any  good,  and  as  I  was  to  be  with  him 
he  could  give  me  a  room  in  this  Hayf  Moon 
Street ;  and  I  said  it  was  a  dandy  idea,  and 
fetched  my  grip-sack  away.  So  there  I  was 
all  in  with  a  duke,  or  a  yearl,  or  a  visscount, 
P  225 


PAINTED  ROCK 

for  I  read  a  book  in  his  place  which  told  the 

names  of  lords.     But  final  I  found  out  he  was 

a  yearl.     So  I  called  him  *  Yearl,'  and  he  said 

I'd  better  not  for  some  reason,  but  that  if  I 

liked  I  could  call  him  *  Cheviot,'  or,  if  I  was 

any  bashful.  Lord  Cheviot.     But  I  reckoned 

he  didn't  like  bashful  folks  any,  so  I  called 

him  Cheviot,   and  he  called  me  Brazos,  for 

I'd  informed  him  what  the  boys  called  me  to 

Painted  Rock.     And  that  night  he  said  we'd 

dine  together,   and  he  fixed  me  up  with   a 

white-shirt  suit  same  as  himself,  and  I  thought 

no  small  pertaters  of  myself,  though  I  didn't 

understand  it  any ;  and  to  my  etarnal  surprise 

the    same    old   magistrate    that    caunfiscated 

my  gun  came  to  dinner  with  us  at  a  mighty 

dandy  hash -house  somewhere  around.     And 

the  magistrate  was  as  kind  an  old  boy  as  ever 

I  seen,  and  in  spite  of  my  noo  soot  he  knew 

me  right  away,  and  smiled,  oh,  he  did  smile,  and 

so  did  me  and  Cheviot.     And  I  sot  and  told 

'em  all  about  Texas,  boys,  and  about  the  ways 

we  hez  of  havin'  difficulties,  and  about  Ben 

Thompson,  and  so   forth,  and  he  was  some 

surprised.     And  I  said  I  tho't  it  wrong  of  him 

226 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

to  caunfiscate  my  gun,  for  I  felt  cold  and 
helpless  and  hopeless  without  it.  And  he  said 
it  was  his  dooty,  boys,  but  that  he'd  now  a 
better  notion  of  Texas,  and  that  he  seed  a 
gun  was  one  of  the  necessities  of  life  in  Texas, 
and  that  his  dooty  didn't  interfere  none  with 
his  presentin'  me  with  one  as  a  gift  from  a 
friend.  And  I  said  if  that  was  so  I'd  like  a 
forty -four  Smith  and  Wesson.  x\nd  next 
momin'  he  sent  me  one,  a  real  daisy  of  a  gun, 
and  here  she  is  !  " 

While  he  took  another  drink  the  boys  looked 
at  Dick's  new  gun,  and  said  she  was  all  right 
as  a  gun.  And  Pillsbury  owned  that  he'd 
considerable  respect  for  that  magistrate,  who 
was,  he  thought,  a  man. 

"  And  when  we'd  finished  hash  pile,"  went 
on  Dick,  "we  went  to  a  theayter,  and  saw  a 
show  which  made  me  laff  caunsiderable ;  but 
what  it  was  about  I  cayn't  say,  as  we  kem 
in  late  and  reetired  early,  and  went  to  Cheviot's 
Club,  where  he  interduced  me  to  more  lords 
and  some  men  as  was  soldiers,  but  not  in 
gay  attire  jest  then.  And  I  sot  among  'em, 
being  tol'rable  full  and  gay,  and  told  'em 
227 


PAINTED  ROCK 

abaout  Texas  and  Painted  Rock ;  and  I  men- 
tioned most  of  you  by  name,  especially  you, 
Mr.  Pillsbury,  and  you,  Mr.  Gedge,  and  you 
Mr.  Gillett,  and  told  'em  your  deeds  and 
exploits,  which  caused  great  wonder  and 
excitement,  and  more  chaps  came  araound,  till 
the  room  wuz  nigh  as  full  as  this.  And  they 
seemed  caunsiderable  pleased  with  me,  boys, 
though  I  say  it,  and  several  of  'em  asked  me 
to  come  and  see  'em.  But  when  I'd  accepted 
some  two  score  invitations  to  caystles,  Cheviot 
let  on  that  I  was  comin'  no'th  with  him,  and 
I  said  they  would  excuse  me,  and  they  laffed 
some,  but  said  I  was  to  please  myself  and 
Cheviot.  And  Cheviot  previous  had  related 
all  that  occurred  in  Jackville  Street,  and  how 
he  came  to  own  that  black  eye.  And  they 
fair  made  me  blush  with  what  they  said.  I 
cayn't  relate  it  all.  And  about  two  o'clock 
me  and  Cheviot  retired  to  our  shack  in  Moon 
Street,  and  I  slept  some  and  no  fatal  error. 
"  Next  day,  boys,  Cheviot's  man  took  me 
araound  to  the  Tower,  and  to  some  big  churches  ; 
but  the  Tower  fetched  me  most,  for  it  was  full 
of  ancient  weepons  and  steel  fixin's  to  wear 
228 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

in  wars.  And  at  last  I  says  to  the  man, 
*  Sonny,  let  us  let  up  on  these  side-shows,  for 
I'm  weary  unto  death.*  For  the  autumn 
round-up  and  all  its  doin's  ain't  hayf  so 
fatiguin'  as  seein'  London,  and  I  beg  you,  boys, 
to  remember  it.  And  the  day  after  that 
Cheviot,  seein'  I  was  some  fatigued,  said  we'd 
go  to  Cheviot  Caystle,  and  we  took  the  cars  and 
travelled  nigh  on  to  ten  hours,  and  kem  to  his 
old  fort,  which  was  wonderful.  In  my  trunk 
down  to  the  deep6t  I've  pictures  of  it,  and  I'll 
show  'em  ter-morrer.  They  give  me  a  room 
the  size  of  a  cattle  corral,  and  a  bed  whar  it 
took  me  all  my  time  to  find  myself  when  I 
woke  in  the  mornin' ;  and  there  was  hundreds 
of  servants,  and  I'd  a  man  given  me  to  look 
after  my  things,  which  was  mostly  my  gun 
and  a  tooth-brush,  for  I  reckons  to  travel  with 
little  more.  And  then  Cheviot  showed  me  his 
horses.  Boys,  I  tho't  that  the  River  Brazos 
horses  was  the  last  word  of  Prov'dence,  but  I 
now  thinks  different.  I  don't  hanker  to  rise 
envy  and  jealousy  in  your  bosoms,  but  Cheviot 
had  horses  you  could  shave  at  so  bright  they 
shone.  They  was  big  and  fine,  and  oh,  boys,  I 
229 


PAINTED  ROCK 

did  hanker  to  own  'em.  I  said  to  Cheviot, 
'  Waal,  Cheviot,  some  would  envy  you  this 
great  caystle,  and  some  would  pine  to  be  a 
yearl,  but  all  I  says  is  that  if  folks  offered  me 
horses  of  this  stamp  in  exchange  for  my 
immortal  soul  I'd  be  horrid  scared  to  face  the 
awful  choice/  And  he  laffed,  and  said  I  could 
any  rate  ride  one  if  I  liked,  and  that  he'd  one 
no  man  could  ride  if  I'd  like  to  try  him.  And 
me  bein'  a  real  broncho  buster,  as  you  boys 
know,  I  reduced  that  haughty  animal  to 
miserable  subjection  in  twenty  minutes  by  the 
golden  hands  of  his  clock  in  the  stables.  And 
the  stablemen  and  grooms  who'd  grinned  to 
see  me  tackle  the  broncho  was  some  surprised. 
And  then  it  appeared  that  there  was  a  lot  of 
ladies  comin',  and  they  fazed  me  a  deal  more 
than  any  untamed,  fiery  mustang ;  but  Cheviot, 
who  was  some  cynical,  cheered  me  up  by 
sayin'  horses  and  womenfolk  was  all  the  same 
all  the  world  over,  and  that  I  needn't  be 
scared.  So  I  bucked  up,  and  when  a  duchess 
asked  me  how  I  was,  I  said,  '  Quite  hunky, 
Duchess,'  and  she  looked  some  surprised  at 
something,  but  what  it  was  I  couldn't  say. 
230 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

And  then  a  countess  tackled  me,  and  I  didn't 
know  who  she  was.  So  I  says,  "  Are  you  a 
duchess,  or  a  yearl,  or  what,  ma'am  ?  '  and 
she  let  on  she  was  a  countess.  All  you've 
got  to  know  in  tackling  folks  like  this  is  to  know 
how  to  name  them,  and  your  trouble's  over. 
'Tain't  like  it  is  in  Texas,  where  '  ma'am '  will 
serve  the  lot,  from  the  President's  wife  down 
to  the  poorest.  But  I  reckon  now  to  know 
who's  who  in  these  aristocratic  gangs,  and  the 
girls  was  very  pleasant,  and  some  of  them  daisies 
to  look  at.  I  got  mighty  popular,  for  there 
warn't  no  one  I  warn't  friends  with,  and  the 
men  was  pleased  to  hear  about  Texas.  They 
evidently  pined  for  Texas.  I  noted  that  all 
through.  It's  common  talk  to  run  down 
Englishmen  in  Texas,  boys,  but  '  Texas '  is 
all  in  their  minds  ;  they  hanker  to  be  free  and 
ride  our  perairies .  They  envy  us  the  gay  life  we 
lead,  and  I  see  this  even  while  I  pined  for 
things  they  hed.  And  there  was  one  Lady 
Caroline  Cheviot  that  I  commenced  to  pine  for 
heavily,  and  she  took  to  me  some,  and  we  sot 
by  each  other  at  dinner,  and  she  helped  me  out 
with  my  difficulties  with  the  hash, — for  there 
231 


PAINTED  ROCK 

are  difficulties  with  the  hash,  boys, — and  she 
consoled  me  by  sayin'  that  any  one  of  the  men 
there  would  be  just  as  much  a  tender-foot  in 
Texas ;  and  I  said,  '  You  bet,  Lady  Caroline. 
I  could  teach  'em  something  thar/  And  I 
yearned  to  be  rich  and  a  lord  (I  own  it,  boys, 
and  there  ain*t  no  need  to  laff),  for  I  wanted  to 
say  to  her,  '  Be  mine,'  and  I  darn't.  And 
next  day  I  goes  to  Cheviot  and  tells  him  all 
about  it.  'I  see  the  difficulties,  Cheviot,'  I 
says,  and  he  owns  there  was  difficulties.  And 
it  appears  the  chief  difficulty  was  that  the 
pore  gal  had  to  marry  a  duke  from  somewhere, 
and  Cheviot  owned  the  duke  was  a  no  good 
galoot.  But,  as  he  said,  the  gal  had  payssed 
her  word,  and  there  warn't  no  good  thinkin'  of 
it.  So  I  tho't  as  little  of  it  as  I  could,  and  I 
might  hev  stayed  a  while  longer  if  it  hadn't 
bin'  that  the  first  ole  duchess  that  spoke  to  me 
took  a  horrid  fancy  to  me.  She  was  all 
clothes  and  paint  and  powder,  so  that  no  man 
ever  saw  the  real  duchess  but  only  the  faked 
outside.  And  one  night  she  took  me  by  the 
hand,  she  bein'  very  old,  and  said  she  thought 
I  was  the  nicest  young  man  she  ever  see,  and 
232 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

I  draws  my  hand  away  sudden  and  flies  to 
Cheviot.  Now  Cheviot  saw  at  once  I  was  disg- 
nuntled,  and  he  asked  me  what  was  wrong, 
and  after  caunsiderable  pressure  on  his  side,  for 
I  hated  to  give  a  duchess  away,  I  told  him  the 
trewth,  and  he  said  I'd  better  fly,  for  she  was 
very  haughty  and  caunsiderable  experienced, 
and  much  given  to  havin'  her  own  way ;  which 
he  said  was  very  usual  with  duchesses,  especially 
when  they  was  dowagers,  which  is  a  kind  or 
specie  of  duchess.  And  so  I  packed  up  my 
gun  and  my  tooth-brush  and  returned  him  his 
white-shirt  soot.  But  that  he  wouldn't  hear 
of.  He  presented  it  to  me,  and  said  I'd  oblige 
him  if  I'd  take  it,  and  with  it  another  gun ;  and 
I  took  'em.  And  then  Cheviot  said  I'd 
always  be  welcome  at  his  caystle,  and  that  next 
time  he'd  see  the  duchess  was  engaged  else- 
where. And  we  shook  and  parted ;  and  as  I 
was  goin'  he  gave  me  a  letter  to  the  super- 
intendent of  his  raynch  up  to  the  Staked 
Plain,  which  said  that  he  was  to  give  me  the 
ch'ice  of  all  horses  on  the  raynch  except  the 
superintendent's  own.  And  that  letter's  in  my 
pocket,  and  I  reckon  to  show  it  on  that  raynch 
233 


PAINTED  ROCK 

shortly.  And  then  I  fled  back  to  London,  and 
took  the  boat  run  by  old  Tuckett's  friend, 
and  then  back  to  Noo  Orl'ans  and  so  on  to 
here,  boys.  And  though  I  hed  a  good 
time  and  a  surprisin*  time,  I'm  glad  to  be 
back  with  you  all.  For  it's  easier  to  get 
on  hyar  than  among  duchesses,  and  I  own 
it." 

Pillsbury  took  the  word,  and  spoke  with 
dignity. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  if  some  I  know  had 
reelated  these  surprisin'  adventures  to  us  I 
should  hev  said  they  lied,  but  I  reckon  that 
the  modest  way  in  which  our  friend  Brazos 
Dick  hez  reelated  them  caunvinces  us  all  of 
their  trewth.  Dick,  my  son,  get  off  of  the 
table  and  take  a  drink  with  me." 

And  Dick  got  off  the  table  blushing  with 
pleasure. 

Then  Ginger  Gillett  intervened. 

"  But  there's  a  diff' culty  in  my  mind, 
Pillsbury,"  he  said.  "  Dick  here  says  he  was 
bailed  out  to  answer  to  the  charge  of  more  or 
less  killin'  some  men  in  a  certain  Jackville 
Street.  Ain't  that  so  ?  " 
234 


THE  TALE  OF  BRAZOS  DICK 

"  That's  so,"  said  Pillsbury.  He  turned  to 
Dick. 

"  Cheviot  told  me  not  to  pay  no  attention  to 
that,"  said  Dick.  "  He  said  he  would  pay  up 
if  need  be.  And,  moreover,  the  magistrate  said 
it  was  all  hunky,  and  that  he  grieved  caun- 
siderable  that  me  and  Cheviot  hadn't  killed  the 
lot." 

"  That  alters  the  case,  I  own,"  said  Gillett. 
"  If  the  magistrate  said  that,  and  after  all 
he  gave  you  another  gun,  why,  it's  evident  he 
approved.     Here's  to  you,  Dick,  my  boy." 

We  all  drank  to  Dick. 


235 


X 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE 
MOUNTAIN 

Old  Bill  Higginson  had  the  reputation  of 
being  very  sudden,  and  there  isn't  the  least 
doubt  that  he  was  sudden.  He  would  be 
as  sweet  and  mild  as  a  southerly  breeze  in 
spring  when  the  prairie  begins  to  show  what 
it  can  do  in  the  way  of  flowers,  and  before 
any  man  could  find  out  the  shadow  of  a  reason 
he  was  as  bitter  as  a  March  norther  with  all 
his  kindness  curdled.  In  such  cases  he  was 
apt  to  pull  a  gun  on  anyone,  and  it  was  only 
the  fact  that  he  was  old,  and  as  white-headed 
as  young  cotton,  that  he  was  not  killed  once 
a  day  at  least. 

Old  Bill  Hved  with  his  wife  and  daughter 
on   a  feeder   of  Double   Mountain   Creek,   in 
the  north-west  of  Texas. 
237 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  A  bewtiful  country,  suh,"  said  Old  Bill 
when  he  was  good-tempered  and  things  well, 
"  a  bewtiful  country,  and  the  feed  is  just 
right.  My  steers  is  fat,  and  water's  plenty. 
I'm  a  happy  and  contented  man,  suh.  I  ask 
nothin'  of  Prov'dence,  I  ask  nothin'  of  no  man, 
but  am  ready  to  give  to  all.     That's  me,  suh." 

He  dressed  in  an  antique  black  frock-coat, 
and  wore  a  Panama  hat.  Both  dated  "  from 
befo*  the  wah,  suh  !  "  there  was  no  mistake 
about  that.  He  rode  about  the  ranges  and 
the  prairie  on  an  ancient  broncho,  not  quite 
so  antique  as  his  clothes,  but  so  antique  that 
the  cowboys  said  the  "pinto"  had  been  in 
the  ark. 

"  He  was  a  fine  animal,"  Old  Bill  said  with 
a  heavenly  smile,  when  things  went  well. 
''You  mayn't  believe  it,  suh,  but  that  pony 
I've  refused  two  hundred  dollahs  for." 

But  when  Bill  was  in  trouble,  when  his 
temper  got  out  of  gear,  he  was  a  different  man. 

"  Suh,   this  God-forsaken  kentry  of  Texas 
is  my  blight  and  bane.     It's  the  backwater 
of  Nowhere  River.     I  pine  in  these  solitudes, 
and  ache  for  my  own  kentry !  " 
238 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

His  own  country  was  Alabama. 

"  If  I  wahn't  married  and  cussed  with  a 
family  I  would  put  the  saddle  on  that  wuthless 
pinto  and  ride  Home  to  die,  suh,"  was  Bill's 
remark  when  he  was  "  thataway."  "Give 
me  Alabama's  flowery  meads  and  niggers,  or 
give  me  death,  as  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  says." 

His  family  was  one  daughter,  and  if  he 
was  "  cussed  "  with  her,  there  were  many  young 
men  who  would  have  thought  themselves 
blessed  if  Amanda  Higginson  had  so  much 
as  smiled  on  them.  She  was  plump  and  fair, 
and  very  engaging,  and  called  her  mother 
''Maw"  and  her  father  "Paw,"  as  they  do  in 
the  Southern  States.  And  girls  were  scarce 
around  Double  Mountain,  while  at  that  time 
cowboys  were  plentiful;  for  Texas  was  not 
yet  fenced  in,  and  sheep  were  not  ousting 
cattle. 

When  Old  Bill  was  happy  he  said  "  Amandy  " 
was  the  apple  of  his  eye.  He  said  she  was 
the  finest  girl  between  the  49th  Parallel  and 
the  Mexican  border.  She  was  going  to  marry 
a  rich  man,  said  Bill.  \\Tien  any  cowboy 
239 


PAINTED  ROCK 

came  round  with  a  courting  look  in  his  eye 
and  a  new  necktie  on,  Bill  developed  madness. 

"  I'll  stand  thishyer  crowd  off  with  a  shot- 
gun, Mary,"  he  said  to  his  wife.  "  Amandy 
is  the  gal  to  wed  millions.  There's  no  gal 
like  Amandy.  Cowboys  is  poison  to  me,  and 
I'll  make  'em  food  for  cayoots  if  they  kem 
languishin'  around  this  raynch.  You  tell  'em 
so,  d'ye  hear?  I'll  feed  'em  to  the  beasts 
of  the  field." 

He  snorted,  and  his  white  eyebrows  looked 
very  fierce.  The  young  men  in  chappareros 
and  guns  fought  shy  of  him.  It  is  horrid  to 
be  confronted  with  a  "gun"  when  one  comes 
courting,  for  it  is,  of  course,  almost  impossible 
to  kill  one's  prospective  father-in-law  without 
discouraging  the  lady.  That  is  what  the 
boys  felt,  and  some  of  the  boldest  of  them 
quailed  before  Bill  Higginson  on  that  account. 

"If  we  kills  Ole  Bill,  Amandy  will  look 
sideways  on  us,"  they  murmured.  But  they 
persevered,  for  Amandy  was  a  daisy  and  a 
flirt,  and  looked  at  them  under  her  eyelashes 
till  they  all  felt  that  love  for  them  bloomed 
in  her  tender  heart.  And  it  has  to  be  owned 
240 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

that  she  loved  them  all  equally,  or  very 
nearly  equally,  not  having  yet  made  a  choice. 
If  there  was  one  of  them  rather  ahead  of  the 
others  in  Amandy's  favour  it  was  Joyce 
Briggs.  However,  Joyce  didn't  know  it,  and 
Morgan  Harris  and  Tom  Galpin  and  Merrick 
Gaylord  and  Billy  Prentiss  all  thought  they 
had  a  look-in,  and  accordingly  were  very 
jealous  and  hopeful.  And  indeed  there  is  no 
doubt  they  all  had  a  chance,  seeing  the  sort 
of  man  old  Higginson  was,  and  the  way  he 
went  to  work  to  keep  Amandy  safely  corralled. 
As  Em'ly  Price  said  (she  lived  the  other  side 
of  Double  Mountain  Creek,  and  had  a  father 
who  did  as  he  was  told)  it  was  a  wonder 
Amandy  "sot  quiet"  and  endured. 

"  I  ain't  hankerin'  to  wed  none  of  'em, 
Em'ly,"  said  Amandy,  tossing  her  pretty 
head.  "  They  worries  me  wuss  than  a  hoss 
in  fly- time.  I  cayn't  go  out  but  I  find  one  of 
the  boys  hid  behind  a  mesquite." 

"  You  reckon,  as  your  Dad  says,  that  you'll 
merry  a  millionaire  ?  "  said  Em'ly. 

"  I  don't  reckon  to  merry  at  all,  yet,"  said 
Amandy.     But    she    didn't    understand    her 
Q  241 


PAINTED  ROCK 

father,  or  the  ways  of  Providence,  or  the  nature 
of  Billy  Prentiss.  Nor  did  she  know  that 
her  uncle,  who  lived  over  on  the  Salt  Fort  of 
the  Brazos,  took  an  interest  in  her  doings, 
and  knew  so  much  scandal  that  he  actually 
knew  more  than  ever  occurred,  in  spite  of 
having  been  once  badly  "  shot  up  "  for  talking 
slander  of  a  prominent  citizen  of  Painted 
Rock.  Indeed  there  was  much  that  Amandy 
didn't  know,  and  perhaps  she  knew  as  little  of 
her  pretty  self  as  she  did  of  anything  or  any- 
one else. 

Now  it  happened  one  bright  day  in  the 
later  spring,  when  northers  were  over  and 
the  prairie  flowers  were  out,  and  aU  things 
were  heavenly,  and  the  cattle  were  lively 
and  the  wind  sweet,  she  put  on  her  sun- 
bonnet  to  keep  her  skin  from  freckling  and 
took  a  little  walk  on  the  prairie  away  from 
the  creek.  And  as  she  might  have  expected, 
and  perhaps  did  expect,  she  presently  saw 
someone  loping  towards  her,  and  presently 
she  saw  it  was  Billy  Prentiss,  and  she  lifted 
up  her  nose,  so  to  speak,  and  prepared  to 
be  "some  haughty,"  as  the  boys  said  she 
242 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

often  was.  And  Bill  being  a  good,  gentle  boy, 
weighing  two  hundred  pounds  at  least,  and 
fair  as  day  and  as  blushing  as  rosy  dawn, 
feared  her  terribly,  but  came  on  all  the  same, 
and  prepared  to  tell  her  again  that  he  loved 
the  "  perairie  "  she  walked  on. 

"  Good-day,  Amandy,"  said  Billy. 

"  Oh,  it's  you  ?  "  said  the  ungracious 
Amandy.  "  Tears  to  me  s'if  I  warn't  allowed 
to  walk  the  perairies  o'  Texas  free  and  without 
guards.     Whar  did  you  spring  from  ?  " 

"  I  wuz  jest  a-ridin'  by "  began  Billy. 

"You  allers  is  jest  a-ridin'  by,"  said 
Amandy.  "  An'  if  you  ain't  jest  a-ridin'  by 
it's  Mr.  Galpin  is,  or  Mr.  Gaylord,  or  Morgan 
Harris." 

"  Waal,  I  knowed  as  your  Paw  wuz  away 
to  Painted  Rock,  Amandy,  and  I  tho't  as  it 
wuz  a  good  time  to  hev  a  talk  with  you  and 
clear  things  up  some.  For  I'm  gettin'  fair 
desprit,  Amandy,  and  I  owns  it." 

"  That's  w^hat   Morgan   says,  and   Merrick, 

and  Tom.     You  all  says  it ;  and  what  I've  got 

to  dew  with  you  bein'  desprit  beats  me,  Billy 

Prentiss.     Cayn't  a  girl  go  a-walkin'  on  the 

243 


PAINTED  ROCK 

perairie  owned  by  her  own  father  without  bein' 
confronted  with  cowboys  sayin'  they're  desprit, 
and  doin'  nothin'  but  sayin'  they're  desprit  ?  " 

So  fair  an  invitation  to  do  more  than  merely 
"say  "  would  have  inspired  a  knowing  citizen 
of  Painted  Rock  to  immediate  attack,  but 
Billy  Prentiss  didn't  recognise  the  invitation. 
Nor  could  he  know  that  he  looked  just  then 
exceedingly  engaging,  and  very  handsome, 
even  better-looking  than  Joyce  Briggs,  whom 
Amandy  had  reckoned  to  see  instead  of 
him. 

"  Tis  you're  fault  I'm  desprit,"  urged 
Billy.  "  You  know  I  loves  you  more  than  I 
loves  my  own  Hfe,  and  I've  said  it  repeated." 

Amandy  tossed  her  head. 

"  So's  Joyce  and  Merrick  and  Morgan,  and 
the  lot  o'  you ;  an'  if  I  payssed  my  word  to  one 
the  others  would  be  desprit.  And  I  don't 
love  no  one,  and  if  I  did  'twould  be  no  good, 
for  Paw  allows,  ez  you  know  well,  Mr.  Prentiss, 
that  he'll  blow  a  hole  threw  any  cowboy  as 
he  ketches  sight  of  within  a  hundred  rods  of 
me.  And  to-day  he's  very  mad  about  every- 
thing, and  was  outrageous  in  denouncin'  you 
244 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

and  Joyce  before  he  pulled  out  for  the  Rock. 

So  it  ain't  my  fault,  thar  !  " 

*'  I  don'  care  the  snap  of  my  finger  for 
your  Paw  and  his  gun,"  said  Billy.  "  If  you 
says  you  love  me  I'll  merry  you  right  off, 
and  he  cayn't  shoot  his  son-in-law  'thout  bein' 
reckoned  a  mean  man.  An'  he  won't  neither ; 
for  I  kin  take  care  o'  myself,  and  he  knows  it." 

Amandy  fired  up. 

"  I  suppose  you  reckons  if  he  came  arter 
you,  then,  you'd  shoot  him  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I'd  hev  to,  maybe,"  declared  Billy. 

"  What,  shoot  my  ole  Paw  ?  " 

"  Not  'less  he  pulled  on  me,  Amandy." 

"  The  idee  o'  my  merryin'  a  man  that 
allows  he'd  shoot  my  Paw,"  said  Amandy. 
"  The  idee's  rediklus,  Billy  Prentiss,  and  you 
knows  it.  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  expose  my  Paw 
to  danger.  Not  but  that  the  danger  'ud  be  of 
bein'  tried  for  killin'  you,  for  he's  deadly  with 
weepons." 

"  Deadly  be — consamed,"  said  Prentiss. 
"  The  ole  galoot  cayn't  shoot  for  sour  apples. 
The  only  gun  he's  any  good  with  is  his  mouth." 

**  That  lets  me  out,"  said  Amandy  furi- 
245 


PAINTED  ROCK 

ously ;  "  don'  you  speak  disrespectful  of  my 
Paw.  You  and  me  has  finished,  Mr.  Prentiss, 
not  that  we  ever  begun "  (here  she  tossed 
her  head)  "  as  I  knows  of.  You  cayn't  be 
insultin'  to  Paw  and  stay  in  with  me " 

"  Oh,  I  ain't  intendin'  to  insult  him  any," 
protested  Billy  in  distress ;  "  all  I  allowed  wuz 
as  he  cayn't  shoot  any,  and  that  he's  gay  and 
free  with  his  tongue,  as  everyone  knows." 

But  Amandy  wouldn't  listen. 

"  If  you  ain't  civil  to  Paw,  you  cayn't  get 
me  to  talk,"  she  declared ;  ''  and  I'll  be  thankful 
if,  when  we  meets,  you'll  payss  me  by,  Mr. 
Prentiss.  I'm  fair  sick  of  desperation  mixed 
with  oncivility  to  my  parents,  for  you  never 
even  so  much  as  payss  the  time  of  day  with 
my  pore  mother." 

Billy  exploded. 

"  Why,  Amandy,  Lord's  sake,  how  kin  I  ? 
when  your  Paw  sits  outside  with  his  hair 
a-bristlin'  and  a  gun  ready  to  shoot  if  we 
kems  within  hayf  a  mile  ?  It's  fair  rediklus  to 
speak  so." 

But   at   that    Amandy   turned   about    and 
walked  towards  the  house. 
246 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

"  Oh,  Amandy  !  "  said  Billy. 

She  paid  no  attention. 

"  Oh,  Amandy,  Amandy  !  "  he  repeated. 

"  Miss  Higginson,  if  you  please,"  said 
Amandy  coldly. 

"  Miss  Higginson,  then,"  implored  Billy, 
leading  his  horse  after  her. 

"  Nor  '  Miss  Higginson '  don't  work  neither," 
said  Amandy  triumphantly. 

And  then  Billy  stayed  in  his  tracks  and 
said  no  more.  When  he  had  recovered  himself 
a  Httle  Amandy  was  entering  her  "Paw's" 
house  without  a  look  in  his  direction. 

"  I'm  fair  desprit,"  said  BiUy  Prentiss. 

He  was  then  aware  of  a  horseman  coming 
up  behind  him  at  an  easy  walk.  As  he 
mounted  they  met  face  to  face,  and  though 
Billy  did  not  know  who  the  man  was,  he  felt 
that  he  was  strangely  like  Old  Bill  Higginson. 

"  Mout  be  his  brother,"  said  the  cowboy. 
"  And  I  dew  believe  he  hez  a  brother  the  other 
side  o'  Double  Mounting." 

"  Good-day,"  said  the  stranger.     He  looked 
at  Billy  rather  too  curiously,  and  Billy  was 
in  no  mood  to  be  looked  at. 
247 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Day  to  you,"  he  said  sulkily.  "  Will  you 
know  me  agin,  stranger  ?  " 

The  stranger  started,  and  said  hastily  that 
he  "  wam't  "  looking  for  anything  but  Bill 
Higginson's  place. 

"  Waal,  thet's  it,  and  you're  welcome  to 
it,"  said  Billy,  as  he  put  spurs  to  his  broncho 
and  loped  off.  The  stranger  pulled  his  own 
horse  round  and  stared  after  him. 

"  I  b'lieve  that  was  Amandy  with  him,  and 
that  he  was  a-kissin'  her,  or  my  eyes  deceived 
me,"  said  Bill  Higginson's  brother.  "  He 
sure  looked  frightable  s'if  he  suspicioned  some 
I'd  c'ot  him.  This  must  be  told  to  Bill.  It 
will  make  Bill  mad." 

He  rode  to  the  house  and  alighted.  Mis* 
Higginson  and  Amandy  came  out. 

"  Mary,  my  dear,  and  Amandy,  how  air 
you  ?  "  asked  George  Higginson.  "  And 
wheer's  Bill  ?  " 

"  You're  welcome,  brother-in-law,"  said 
Mis'  Higginson,  "  but  Bill's  to  Painted  Rock, 
and  won't  be  hum  till  to-night.  Kem  in 
out  o'  the  sun  and  set  daown.  Amandy  will 
look  arter  your  hoss." 

248 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

And  George  Higginson  went  in. 

"  I'm  right  glad  to  see  you,"  he  said;  "  and 
I've  all  sorts  o'  news  for  Bill.  Bless  me,  I 
ain't  bin  hyar  for  nigh  on  to  a  year,  and  how 
Amandy  rises  up,  and  I  dew  reckon  the  cow- 
boys kems  araound  after  her  some,  don't  they, 
Mary  ?  Oh  yep,  you  bet.  And  Bill,  is  he  as 
dead  sot  on  standin'  of  'em  off  with  a  Win- 
chester or  a  double-pronged  scatter  gun  as  he 
was  ?  Waal,  to  be  sure,  to  be  sure.  Gawd 
bless  you,  Amandy.  You're  a  good  gal  to 
look  arter  your  old  uncle's  boss,  and  as  spry 
and  pretty  a  gal  as  I've  set  eyes  on  in  Texas 
thess  year  payst.  And  if  you  say  '  eat,' 
Mary,  I'm  with  you,  for  I'm  as  hungry  as  a 
buzzard  and  could  eat  onything." 

By  aU  this  it  may  be  judged  that  George 
was  very  full  of  himself,  and  had  a  tongue 
balanced  in  the  middle  which  was  easy  to  set 
clacking.  He  certainly  loved  to  talk,  and  as 
he  talked  he  couldn't  help  congratulating  him- 
self on  the  sad  news  he  had  for  Bill.  He 
watched  Amandy  hke  a  cat. 

*'  Sly  pussy-cat   she   ez,   to  bee   sure,"   he 
said.     "  To  look  et  her  you'd  never  suspicion 
249 


PAINTED  ROCK 

that  a  large  and  powerful  cowboy  hed  been 
puttin'  heavy  and  lovin*  pressure  on  her  short 
ribs,  and  a-kissin'  her  fit  to  bust,  as  I  see  with 
these  eyes  of  mine." 

He  was  sure  of  it,  and  the  detail  of  the 
love-scene  grew  on  him  every  moment. 

"  Yes,  Amandy,  my  love.  I'll  hev  another 
wedge  o'  thet  pie.  My  indigestion  don't 
permit  me  to  eat  your  aunt's  pie,  but  thess 
pie  ez  pie,  and  I  kin  consciously  declare  it  is  pie, 
and  not  rock,  nor  a  door-mat,  nor  last  yeer's 
mud,  nor  onythin'  unwholesome.  In  the 
matter  o'  pie  me  and  yur  aunt  has  trouble, 
but  I  minimises  friction  now  I'm  older  by 
never  tacklin'  it." 

And  as  he  ate  the  pie  he  saw  Amandy  and 
the  large  and  powerful  cowboy. 

"  Her  a-lookin'  up  at  him  so  confidin'  and 
lovin',  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  pore  dear,  and 
a-liftin'  up  thet  rose-bud  of  a  mouth  to  his 
large  and  powerful  one,  and  all  the  time 
her  knowin'  how  useless  it  was  to  buck 
up  agin'  Ole  Bill's  firm  and  judishus  inten- 
tion to  wed  her  by  force  to  a  millinaire 
when  one  kems  along.  '  Oh,  how  sad, 
250 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

but    how    trew !  '    as     Brother    White    says 
exhortin'." 

He  told  Mis'  Higginson  and  Amandy  all 
about  everything  on  his  ranch  over  his  side  of 
the  country,  and  said  how  Seth  Smith  was 
supposed  to  be  dead  on  account  of  horse- 
stealing. But  how  he  died  he  wouldn't  say. 
And  he  further  said  that  the  feed  on  the 
ranges  wasn't  what  it  had  been,  and  that  he 
hated  sheep,  and  that  Hfe  was  a  burden,  and 
his  wife's  pie  hideous  (for  he  loved  good  pie), 
and  he  then  went  into  pohtics,  and  said  what 
he  thought  of  McKinley  and  Queen  Victoria 
and  the  Germans  and  the  Mexicans  and  all  the 
world. 

But  all  the  time  his  very  fertile  imagination 
was  working  on  the  subject  of  Amandy  and 
the  large  cowboy.  His  talk  presently  followed 
his  mind. 

"  You  ain't  merried  yet,  Amandy  ?  "  he 
said,  with  a  nervous  laugh. 

"  I  ain't  a-thinkin'  o'  merriage,"  returned 
Amandy. 

"  'Pears  to  me  you  should  think  of  it,"  said 
her  uncle;  "  there's  sad  dangers  in  this  world 
251 


PAINTED  ROCK 

for  the  unmerried,  specially  unmerried  gals. 
Ain't  there,  Mary  ?  " 

''  Mebbe,  George,"  said  Mis'  Higginson,  who 
was  very  weary  of  her  brother-in-law  and 
troubled  little  about  Amandy's  "  merriage." 
She  had  heard  too  much  of  it  from  Bill. 

"  I'd  Hke  to  see  you  merried  right  off," 
mused  George,  who  was  sadly  afraid  he'd  seen 
more  than  he  had  known  at  first.  He  got 
surer  of  it  every  minute. 

"  I  ain't  reckonin'  to  be  merried,"  said 
Amandy  angrily. 

"  You  ain't,  Amandy  ?  " 

"  No,  I  ain't." 

George  shook  his  head.  Evidently  the  bad 
and  wicked  and  large  cowboy  wouldn't  marry 
her! 

"  I'll  speak  to  Bill.  We'll  see  if  he  won't," 
said  George  to  himself.  "  No  cowboy  kin 
insult  and  destroy  any  o'  our  fam'ly  without 
invitin'  deestruction." 

By  now  he  was  absolutely  sure  he  had  seen 
dreadful  things. 

"  Pore  little  gal !  "  said  George ;  "  but  I'll  see 
her  righted.     Oh,  won't  I,  jest  ?  " 
252 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

He  went  on  to  explain  some  of  the  dangers 
of  the  "  unmerried  "  state,  and  denounced 
gay  seducers  until  Amandy  fled  and  Mis' 
Higginson  yawned.  She  hadn't  seen  any 
gay  seducers  around  her  neighbourhood, 
and  wasn't  troublin'  none  about  'em,  she 
said. 

*'  Pore  woman  !  "  said  George;  and  then  at 
sundowTi  Bill  returned  in  his  Studebaker 
wagon  drawn  by  two  mules,  and  he  found 
his  brother  with  his  mouth  open,  while 
Amandy  and  her  mother  were  horribly 
exhausted. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  here's  Paw,"  said 
Amandy,  as  she  flew  out  to  greet  him,  when  he 
came  trotting  up  to  the  door. 

"  In  the  mawTiin',  when  he's  quiet  and 
rested,  I'll  get  him  on  one  side  and  reelate 
thess  'disaster  to  him,"  said  George.  "  But 
I'll  hev  another  drap  o'  tea,  Mary. 
Tellin'  the  noos  makes  one  dry,  so  it  does, 
though  I'm  not  one  to  talk  'cept  on 
occasion." 

That  evening  George  and  Bill  talked  against 
each  other,  but  George  kept  on  dropping  hints 
253 


PAINTED  ROCK 

as  to  coming  trouble.  He  said  he'd  have  to 
ask  advice  on  a  "  p'int "  in  the  morning,  and 
when  Bill  desired  to  hear  it  now,  he  said  he  had 
to  think  of  it. 

"  Oh,  you're  too  melancholy  and  suspicious 
to  live,"  said  Bill,  who  was  in  a  jovial  mood. 
"  Bless  me,  with  a  nice  Httle  raynch  and  a 
few  head  o'  good  steers,  and  a  wife  like  my 
Mary  and  a  gal  like  my  Amandy,  and  a  hoss 
to  ride  like  my  pinto,  I'm  all  hunky,  and  I  find 
Texas  pleasant,  and  the  people  joyous,  and  it's 
a  good  world,  George,  so  cheer  up  some  and  let 
up  on  your  gloomy  hints  o'  trouble,  for  you've 
nothing  to  worry  you." 

And  poor  George  said  his  own  troubles  were 
nothing. 

"  My  natur'  is  sech,  Bill,  that  I  worry  not 
at  all  about  my  own  woes,  but  the  woes  of 
other  ignorant  and  innocent  people  fills  me 
with  the  intensest  grief.  It  done  so  from  a 
child,  and  many's  the  time  I've  wept  sore  to  see 
our  old  dad  wallop  thunder  out  o'  yur  pore 
little  carcass,  and  you  know  it." 

"  So  you  did,  but  that's  all  over,"  repHed 
Bill ;  "  and  there's  no  need  to  weep  none  here, 
254 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

for  I  don't  wallop  Amandy  none,  for  she's 
the  apple  o'  my  eye." 

And  George  wept  a  Httle,  and  said  he'd  go  to 
bed  and  think  over  things.  And  to  bed  he 
went,  after  a  drink  or  two.  As  he  turned  in 
he  solemnly  cursed  the  cowboy,  who  was,  he 
felt  sure,  a  gay  seducer. 

"  My  gallant  cowboy  o'  the  Circle  X  outfit — 
for  I  reckon  to  hev  seen  the  brand  on  your 
pony — your  time  will  kem  to-morrow.  Bill 
and  me  will  round  you  up,  and  don't  you  forget 
it.  To  think  pretty  Amandy  is  the  prey  of  a 
villain,  when  Bill  reckons  her '11  wed  a  milHon- 
aire !  " 

Now  in  the  morning  Bill  got  up  and  sang, 
for  he  still  felt  "  all  hunky,"  as  he  hadn't  drunk 
too  much  in  Painted  Rock,  and  when  George 
heard  him  singing  he  was  amazingly  sad,  for 
the  poor  victim  Amandy  was  all  his  mind. 
He  dressed  slowly,  and  went  out  to  find  Bill 
having  a  smoke  before  breakfast. 

"  Mornin',  George,"  said  Bill.  "  Hope's 
you're  brighter  thess  mornin'  ?  " 

"  No,  I  ain't  brighter,  not  a  cent's  worth 
brighter.  For  now  the  time  has  kem  for  me 
255 


PAINTED  ROCK 

to  speak  to  you  on  a  sad  p'int,  and  one  I'd 
rather  perish  miserable  in  a  bHzzard  on  the 
perairie  than  mention,"  said  George. 

"  Jerusalem,  what's  wrong  with  the  man  ?  " 
inquired  Bill,  with  sudden  testiness.  "  Here 
am  I  as  happy  as  a  chipmunk,  and  he  kems  out 
like  a  corp  for  sadness,  and  spiles  the  very 
momin'  air.     What  is  it,  George  ?  " 

George  shook  his  head. 

"  Let  us  take  a  little  walk,  and  let  me  beg 
you  to  be  ca'm,  while  I  reelates  the  suspicious 
events  to  which  I  was  a  sad  and  horrified 
witness  yesterday,"  replied  George. 

"  What  events  ?  "  roared  Bill  furiously. 

"  Events  that  are  now  as  clear  as  day  in  my 
mind,"  said  George,  "  horrid  events,  but 
nat'ral  enough,  for  innocence  is  innocence 
wherever  you  find  it,  and  wicked  men  are  pisin 
wherever  seen." 

Bill's  face  turned  crimson,  and  his  white 
hair  stood  on  end. 

"  Brother    George,"     he    remarked     in     a 

strangled    whistle,     "  if    you  don't  want  me 

to    apoplex    sudden    you'll    be   jest    a    trifle 

clearer  and  not  so  long-winded.      What's  it 

256 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

all  abaout,  before  I  shoots  you  for  alarmin' 
me?" 

"  Be  ca'm,"  said  George. 

"  I  am  ca'm  !  "  roared  Bill. 

"  It's  abaout  our  dear  pore  little 
Amandy "  began  George. 

"  A  word  agin  Amandy  and " 

"  No,  no,  brother,  you  won't.  Would  I 
say  it  was  her  fault  ?  And  if  it  wam't 
with  such  as  the  villain  I'm  a-goin*  to 
mention  you  cayn't  shoot  me,  your  sad 
brother !  " 

Bill  choked.  But  he  put  on  an  air  of 
"  ca'mness." 

"  Speak,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  It's  Amandy.  You  reckon  she'll  marry 
a  millionaire  ?  " 

Bill  made  alarming  noises,  but  nodded  his 
head. 

"  It'll  be  well  if  she  marries  a  large  cowboy 
roamin'  thess  neighbourhood,"  said  George 
mournfully. 

"  A  cowboy,  my  Gawd " 

Bill  could  say  no  more. 

"  I  seen  the  pore  innocent  with  hrni.  Bill, 

R  257 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Oh,  Fm  sad  to  say  I  surprised  'em.  She  ran, 
and  he  looked  at  me  very  fightable  and  mad, 
but  I  kept  ca'm  so's  not  to  let  him  know  what 
I  seen,  and  I  out-faced  him." 

"  What  did  you  see  ?  "  whispered  Bill. 

"  Her  and  him  kissin',  and  him  huggin'  her, 
and — but  I'll  say  no  more.  You  and  me  will 
hunt  him  up  and  make  him  merry  her  right 
off!" 

Bill  didn't  "  apoplex,"  but  he  looked  alarm- 
ingly near  it. 

"  What  was  he  like  ?  " 

"  Large  and  powerful,  weighin'  some  two 
hundred  pounds  or  thereabouts,"  said  George, 
*'  and  he'd  an  ivory  butt  to  his  gun  and 
mesquite  leggin's  and  a  red  shirt,  and  his  eyes 
was  blue,  and  he  warn't  bad-lookin',  and  he 
rode  a  big  sorrel  pony  branded  Circle  X  on 
the  near  shoulder." 

"  That's  Billy  Prentiss,"  said  Bill  Higginson; 
"  sure  as  death  that's  Billy  Prentiss,  who  is 
thess  minute — lookin'  forward  a  little — as  dead 
as  ever  any  man  was." 

But  George  grabbed  his  arm. 

"  No,  Bill,  make  him  merry  her.  If  you 
258 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

kill  him,  whar'll  she  be,  if  so  be  things  is  the 
wust  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  cayn't  be !  "  roared  Bill. 

"  I  suspicion  some  they  allers  is,"  said 
George.  "  But  say  you'll  make  him  merry 
her,  and  on'y  kill  him  arterwards." 

"  I— I  will,"  said  Bill.  He  marched  to- 
wards the  house  in  which  Amandy  and  her 
mother  were.  They  were  quite  happy,  because 
they  had  heard  him  singing,  and  when  he 
sang  before  breakfast  it  usually  meant  a 
happy  day.  Now  he  came  in  like  a  whirl- 
wind. 

"  Amandy,  to  your  room,  gal !  "  he  yelled. 

"  Oh,  Paw  !  " 

"  To  your  room,  gal !  "  he  repeated. 

"  Lord  sakes,  WilUam  !  "  said  his  wife. 

"  Silence, woman  !    Amandy,  to  your  room !  " 

And  Amandy  fled  like  a  lamb  before  a 
bhzzard,  while  her  father  made  horrid  noises 
in  his  throat. 

"  George,  that  batten  there,"  he  said. 

George  brought  him  a  short  piece  of  wood. 

"  The  hammer  and  nails,  woman,"  said  Bill. 
His  wife  brought  them.  He  nailed  Amandy's 
259 


PAINTED  ROCK 

door  up.  Then  he  went  outside  and  did  the 
same  to  the  window. 

"  George,  get  your  horse  up,  and  I'll  get  the 
pinto,"  he  said.     Mis'  Higginson  exploded. 

"  What's  the  pore  gal  done  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  Don't  ask  me !  "  cried  Amandy's  father. 
"  If  you  let  her  out  till  I  return  I'll  kiU  all 
my  family  and  the  pinto,  and  fire  the  house, 
and  kill  George,  and  blow  my  own  head  off. 
Are  you  ready,  George  ?  " 

"  To  bee  sure,"  said  George  in  a  shaking 
voice.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  wasn't  now 
so  sure  that  Billy  Prentiss  was  a  gay  seducer. 
Bill  was  terrible.  But  when  Bill  got  on  his 
hind  legs,  George  was  nowhere.  Bill  was 
now  commander. 

*'  I've  made  a  plan,"  he  said,  when  he  got 
outside  and  had  the  pinto  saddled  up.  "  You 
will  ride  over  to  Williams'  raynch,  ten  miles 
to  the  north-west,  George.  They've  Brother 
Brandram  stayin'  with  'em.  Tell  him  to 
kem  over  at  once  to  see  someone  in  imminent 
danger  o'  death.  If  he  won't  come,  make  him 
at  the  p'int  o'  your  gun.  I'll  seek  Billy 
Prentiss  with  thess  shot-gun.  I'll  either 
260 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

bring    him    or    a    part    of    him,    or    perish. 
Go!" 

And  George  went.  He  wondered  if  he  had 
seen  anything  after  all.  It  seemed  as  if  he 
had,  and  yet  he  wasn't  sure.  But  what  a 
terror  Bill  was ! 

"  Pore  little  Amandy  looked  some  scared," 
said  George,  as  he  rode  north-west.  "  I'm 
a'most  sorry  I  spoke.  Perhaps  thess  cowboy 
will  be  some  down  on  me  for  takin'  a  hand  in 
merrying  him  by  force.  But  now  I  cayn't 
help  myself.  Bill  ez  that  mad  he'd  chase  me 
to  the  Pacific  if  I  don't  help  his  notion.  I'll 
hev  to  fetch  Brother  Brandram." 

And  in  an  hour  and  a  half  he  found  the 
Williams'  ranch.  He  inquired  for  Brother 
Brandram,  and  a  portly  gentleman  in  black 
came  out. 

"You  desire  to  see  me,  sir?"  said  the 
minister. 

"  I  dew,"  said  George.  "  Would  you  oblige 
me  and  my  brother  Bill  Higginson  by  kemmin' 
over  to  our  raynch,  ten  miles  south-east  o' 
this  spot,  to  see  someone  in  imminent  danger 
of  immediate  decease  ?  " 
261 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Dear  me,  of  course  I  will,"  said  Mr. 
Brandram.  "  I  can  get  a  horse  here,  and  will 
be  ready  in  a  minute.     Is  it  a  case  of  disease  ?  " 

"  Not  infectious,"  said  George  hastily.  "  I'll 
explain  it  as  we  go  along." 

And  Brandram,  having  got  a  pony  saddled, 
came  away  at  once. 

"  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death,"  said 
Brother  Brandram  cheerfully.  "  Is  the  sick 
man  a  relation  of  yours,  sir  ?  " 

"  Not  yet,"  said  George.  "  I  mean  he 
ain't." 

"Is  he  looking  very  bad  ?  "  asked  the 
minister. 

"  He  looks  the  strongest  man  hereabouts," 
said  George. 

"  How  sad ! "  said  Brandram.  "  Can  you 
say  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

**  No,  that  I  cayn't.  Bill  said  it  was 
caunfidential." 

"  Confidential !  "  said  Brandram.  "  Bless 
me  !     You  don't  mean  it's  crime  ?  " 

*'  Oh,  by  no  means,  not  at  all,"  said  George. 
"  There  ain't  no  one  killed.  But  Amandy's 
locked  up." 

262 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

"  Amandy  ?  " 

"  She's  my  niece,"  said  George. 

"  But  why's  she  locked  up,  and  what  has 
she  to  do  \\ith  the  sick  man  ?  " 

"  My  brother  is  goin'  to  hev  thet  explained 
or  perish,"  repHed  George. 

The  minister  shook  his  head. 

"  Somehow  I  don't  quite  understand,"  he 
said.     "Is  the  girl  ill  ?  " 

"  Cryin'  fit  to  bust  !  " 

"  About  the  d3mig  man  ?  " 

"  She  don't  know  he's  dyin',  and  he  ain't 
ezackly  dyin',  but  only  like  to  die,"  said 
George  in  confusion.  "  My  brother's  fetchin' 
him  along." 

**  Fetching  him  along  !     In  a  wagon  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  he'll  ride,"  said  George,  "  and 
with  Bill  behind  him  he'll  ride  fast." 

"  Humph,"  said  the  minister.  He  pulled 
up. 

"  Kem  along,  sir,"  said  George. 

"  Not  before  I  understand,"  said  Brandram 

firmly.     "  You    say    the    man's    not    exactly 

dying  but  likely  to  die,  and  that  he'll  ride  fast 

with  your  brother — if  I  apprehend  you  rightly, 

263 


PAINTED  ROCK 

he's   your   brother — behind    him.     Now   why 
is  your  brother  behind  him  ?  " 

"Why,  to  fetch  him  surely,"  said  George; 
"  he  wouldn't  kem  else.  But  with  Bill  behind 
him  with  a  shot-gun  he'll  come,  and  no  fatal 
error." 

"  This  seems  strange  treatment  for  a  sick 
man,"  said  Brandram. 

"  I  never  let  on  he  was  sick,"  said  George 
sulkily. 

"  Then  why  do  you  want  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  w^ant  you  none.  It's  BiU  wants 
you,"  said  George. 

"  Unless  you  explain  I  will  not  go  a  step 
farther,"  said  Brandram. 

"  Won't  you  ?  "  said  George.  "  Oh  yes, 
you  will." 

And  he  pulled  his  gun. 

"  You  kem  or  be  killed,"  said  George. 

"  You  surely  can't  mean  to  threaten  a 
minister  ?  "  said  Brandram,  in  great  alarm. 

"  All  I  want  is  to  save  my  own  hfe,"  said 
George  firmly;  "and  if  I  don't  fetch  you  Bill 
will  kill  me,  and  I'm  sorry  I  was  fool  enough  to 
say  a  word  about  it." 

264 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

"  About  what,  man  ?  "  demanded  the 
minister. 

**  About  Amandy,"  said  George.  "  Now 
are  you  kemmin'  along,  or  will  you  compel 
me  to  kill  you  in  your  tracks  ?  " 

"  I  think  ril  come,"  said  Brandram  rather 
weakly.  "  This  is  very  remarkable  treatment, 
sir." 

George  put  up  his  gun. 

"  I  cayn't  help  it,  and  when  you've  done 
it,  ril  apologise,"  he  said.  "  But  when  you 
see  Bill  he'll  explain  it  to  you,  and  you'll 
understand  that  what  Bill  says  goes  every 
time.     He's  a  terror,  he  is." 

They  rode  on  in  silence. 

"  I  wish  I  understood,"  said  the  unfortunate 
captive, — "  I  wish  I  understood." 

Now,  about  this  time,  Bill,  armed  with  his 
deadly  shot-gun  and  mounted  on  the  antique 
pinto,  was  just  about  to  come  across  Billy 
Prentiss.  They  told  him  at  the  Circle  X 
outfit  that  Billy  was  over  to  Salt  Creek, 
and  when  Bill  got  there  he  found  him  sure 
enough. 

"  Why,  thess  is  Ole  Higginson,"  said 
265 


PAINTED  ROCK 

Prentiss.  "  What's  he  a-doin'  a-riding  araound 
hyar  ?  If  he  was  dead  I'd  be  pleased,  and 
mebbe  Amandy  would  be  none  too  sad 
neither." 

Old  Bill  rode  up.  He  pointed  his  shot-gun 
straight  at  the  cowboy. 

"  Don't  do  that,"  said  Prentiss  angrily. 
**  The  dern  ole  thing  might  go  off !  " 

But  Old  Bill  looked  mighty  serious.  He 
spoke,  and  Prentiss  knew  this  was  business. 

*'  Unbuckle  thet  belt  o'  yours  and  let  yur 
gun  fall  into  the  ground,"  said  Old  Bill,  "  or 
I'll  put  a  double  handful  of  shot  into  your 
stummick  'thout  another  word  !  " 

The  cowboy  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"D'ye  mean  it,  Mr.  Higginson  ?  I  own 
you've  got  the  drop  on  me." 

"  I  mean  it,"  said  Higginson.  His  fierce 
old  eyes  said  so  too. 

So  Prentiss  unbuckled  his  belt  and  let  it 
and  the  gun  faU  on  the  ground. 

"  Walk  away  some,"  said  Old  BiU.     When 
Prentiss  was  twenty  yards  away,  Higginson 
alighted  and  picked  up  the  weapon.     He  belted 
himself  with  it  and  mounted  again. 
266 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

"  You'll  walk  ahead  o'  me  to  my  raynch," 
said  Old  Bill  in  the  same  awful  voice. 

"  Cayn't  I  ride,  Mr.  Higginson  ?  "  asked 
Prentiss,  looking  at  his  pony  tied  up  to  a 
near  mesquite. 

"  You  cayn't." 

"  If  I  cayn't,  I  cayn't,"  said  Prentiss 
cahnly.  "  But  while  I  walk  I'd  like  to  hev 
some  explanation  of  why  you're  doin'  thess." 

"  You'll  get  it  by  and  by,"  said  Higginson. 

Now  it's  not  at  all  a  pleasant  thing  to  walk 
^vith  an  infuriated  madman  with  a  shot-gun 
just  behind  one,  and  Billy  Prentiss  found  it 
wasn't  pleasant.  However,  Higginson  had  "  the 
deadwood"  on  him,  and  there  was  no  choice. 
It  was  "  walk  "  or  "  die,"  and  he  knew  it.  There 
are  times  when  a  man  knows  this  easily,  and 
Old  Bill  was  plain  print  to  read. 

"  It's  sure  somethin'  about  Amandy," 
thought  Prentiss  as  he  marched.  "  Pore 
little  Amandy !  But  I'm  some  surprised  ! 
What'U  he  do?  I  reckon  he'll  likely  kHl 
me." 

It  looked  very  like  it.  But  after  half  an 
hour's  steady  walk  the  ranch  was  just  ahead 
267 


PAINTED  ROCK 

of  them.     Prentiss  owned  that  he  had  a  pain 
in  his  back. 

"  Now  we'll  hear  what's  the  difficulty," 
he  said.  And  then  he  saw  two  horsemen 
coming  from  the  north-west.  The  four  of 
them  met  just  outside  the  door. 

"  Thess  is  the  minister,  Brother  Brandram," 
said  George  Higginson. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  suh,"  said  Bill  grimly. 
"  I've  got  some  business  for  you,  suh." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  know  why "  began 

Brandram,  but  Bill  cut  him  short. 

"  You'll  know  soon  enough. — Mary  !  " 
His  wife  came  to  the  door. 
"  Let  out  Amandy,"  said  her  husband. 
"  Them  as  shut  her  up  kin  let  my  da'ter 
out,"  said  old  Mary  angrily. 

"  I'll  speak  to  you  later  on,  woman,"  said 
Bill.  "  George,  get  off  your  horse  and  let 
Amandy  out." 

George  did  as  he  was  told.  He  broke  down 
the  nailed  batten,  and  found  Amandy  with 
red  eyes. 

''You're  to  kem  out,"  said  George  ner- 
vously. 

268 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

"  I  won't  come  out,"  said  Amandy,  who  was 
a  woman. 

''  You  won't  ?  " 

"  I  won't." 

"  Your  Paw  says  you  are  to." 

"  Tell  him  them  as  shut  me  up  kin  fetch 
me  out,"  said  Amandy. 

George  repeated  this  to  the  father. 

"  Amandy  !  "  said  the  old  man. 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Amandy  !  "  he  roared. 

"  Ye-es,  Paw,"  said  the  poor  girl. 

"  Ef  you  don't  come  out  before  a  minute's 
gone  I'll  kill  Billy  Prentiss  right  here  !  " 

The  last  person  in  Amandy's  mind  was 
Billy  Prentiss.  Why  should  he  kill  Billy? 
It  was  very  strange. 

*'  Oh,  kem  out,  Amandy,"  said  her  mother. 

"  Don't  you  kem  out  if  you  don't  want  to, 
Amandy,"  roared  Billy  Prentiss.  "If  he 
wamts  to  kill  me,  let  him." 

But  Amandy  crept  out. 

"  I — I  don't  want  you  killed,  Mr.  Prentiss," 
said  Amandy.     "  What  hev  you  done  ?  " 

Bill  Higginson,  still  on  the  pinto,  and  with 
269 


PAINTED  ROCK 

his    shot-gun    covering    the    group,    roared, 
"  Silence  !  "     Then  he  turned  to  the  minister. 

"  Merry  them  two,  suh,  and  do  it  immejit," 
he  said. 

"  Oh,  Paw !  "  said  Amandy. 

"  Silence,  gal,"  said  her  father. 

*'  I  won't  merry  him,"  said  Amandy. 

"  Don't  you  if  you  don't  want  to,  Amandy," 
said  Billy. 

Brother  Brandram  intervened. 

"  If  the  young  lady  doesn't  want  to  marry 
this  young  man,  I  can't  do  it,"  said  he. 

Bill  lifted  his  gun. 

''  You  kin  and  you  will,  or  I'll  kill  you  all 
and  fire  the  raynch  and  kill  the  pinto  and 
blow  my  head  off,"  said  Bill. 

"  Steady,"  said  Billy  Prentiss.  "  I'm  ready 
to  merry  her,  and  Amandy  knows  it,  for  I've 
bin  askin'  her  this  twelve  months,  but  I'd 
far  ruther  perish  here  in  my  tracks  than 
merry  her  agin'  her  will." 

"  Then  you  kin  hev  five  minutes  to  pree- 
pare,"  said  Higginson.     "  Mr.  Brandram,  say 
your    prayers    with    him    or  indooce  him  to 
merry  her.     My  last  word  is  said." 
270 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

It  looked  as  if  it  was.  He  took  out  his 
watch.    There  was  a  long  silence. 

"  Good-bye,  Amandy ;  I  always  loved  you," 
said  the  cowboy. 

Amandy  burst  into  tears. 

"  Oh,  it's  shameful !  "  she  sobbed.  *'  Oh, 
Paw,  you  shame  me  awful." 

"  One  minute  gone,"  said  Old  Bill. 

"  If  you  don't  love  me,  don't  you  merry 
me,"  said  Prentiss. 

Amandy  wept  bitterly. 

"  I — like  you  some,"  said  Amandy,  with  her 
eyes  to  the  ground. 

"  Two  minutes,"  said  Bill. 

"  If  you'd  rather  merry  Joyce  or  Morgan, 
don't  you  mind  me,"  said  the  cowboy.  "  I 
kin  die,  Amandy." 

George  spoke. 

"  Bill,  mebbe  I  was  wrong "  he  began. 

"Silence,"  said  his  brother;  "'tis  too  late 
for  you  to  be  wrong.  'Tis  marriage  or  immejit 
death." 

"  Oh,  mother !  "  sobbed  Amandy.     But  Mis' 
Higginson  sat  down  with  an  apron  over  her 
head  so  as  to  avoid  seeing  anyone  killed. 
271 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Merry  him,  Amandy,"  said  George.  He 
whispered  in  her  ear.  "  Merry  him,  and  you 
kin  come  and  Hve  on  my  raynch,  and  I'll 
leave  it  to  you  when  I  die." 

"  Three  minutes  wasted,"  said  Bill. 

"  I'll  marry  you,  Mr.  Prentiss,"  said 
Amandy. 

"  Do  your  duty,  Brother  Brandram,"  said 
Bill,  as  he  returned  his  watch  to  his  pocket. 

And  Brandram  did  his  duty  in  rather  a 
shaky  voice. 

"  You're  now  man  and  wife,"  said  he  when 
he  had  done. 

Bill  took  up  his  parable  again. 

"  And  now,  hevin*  merried  her,  Prentiss, 
you  kin  pull  out  and  never  see  her  no  more. 
For  you  ain't  goin'  to  reap  no  advantage 
threw  your  wickedness.  And  Amandy,  though 
she  bears  your  name,  will  hate  you  evermore. 
Git  up  and  git  !  " 

"  But  she's  my  wife,"  said  the  cowboy  in 
great  surprise.  "  She'll  kem  away  with 
me." 

Bill  smiled  an  awful  smile. 

"  You  think  so;  but  you're  off  it,  away  off 
272 


A  ROMANCE  OF  DOUBLE  MOUNTAIN 

it,  Prentiss.     If  you  don't  clear  out  I'll  kill 
you  !  " 

Amandy  felt  that  she  was  a  married  woman 
and  had  new  duties.  Mr.  Prentiss  had  behaved 
nobly.  She  went  up  to  Billy  shyly  and  stood 
in  front  of  him. 

"  He  ain't  goin'  'thout  me,  and  if  you 
kills  him  you'll  hev  to  kill  me  too.  You've 
made  me  merry  him.  Paw,  and  now  I'm 
merried,  I'm  merried." 

"  That's  so,"  said  Brother  Brandram. 

"  So  it  is,"  said  George. 

"  It's  gawspel  trewth,"  said  Mis'  Hig- 
ginson,  coming  from  under  her  apron;  "and 
if  you  kill  the  boy  or  Amandy  I'll  curse  you. 
Bill  Higginson,  and  drownd  myself." 

"  If  you  do  I'll  kill  everyone  and  burn  the 
raynch  and  shoot  the  pinto  and  blow  my  head 
off,"  said  Bill,  who  was  now  coming  to  the 
end  of  his  powers  of  rage. 

"  I  will  for  sewer,  in  the  crick,  deep,"  said 
Mis'  Higginson;  "and  you'll  find  your  old 
wife  dead  and  wet  where  you  draw  the  water." 

"  I'll   give   you   five   minutes   to   say   you 
won't,"  said  Bill  irresolutely, 
s  273 


PAINTED  ROCK 

"  Five  or  ten  won't  alter  me,"  said  Mis' 
Higginson.  "  Fd  ruther  see  water  than  blood 
any  day." 

"  You  mean  it,  Mary  ?  "  asked  Old  Bill. 

''  I  does,  Bill.  Your  tantrums  fatigue  me 
awful,"  said  Mis'  Higginson. 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"  Waal,  I  won't  kill  no  one,  at  least  not 
to-day,"  said  Bill.  He  got  off  the  pinto.  He 
stroked  the  ancient  animal's  nose. 

"  After  all,  Fd  ruther  it  was  you,  Billy 
Prentiss,  than  Morgan  Harris  or  Joyce  Briggs," 
he  said.  "  I  always  was  down  on  Joyce 
Briggs." 

That  night  Amandy  told  her  husband  that 
she,  too,  had  always  been  down  on  poor  Joyce 
Briggs. 


Printed  by  MOKRISON  S:  Gibb  Limited,  Edinburgh 


,K  INITIAL  ^"^^  °,^.?.°S 

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OVERDUE. 


LD21- 


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